


A Tale of Wings

by Evaldrynn (ArtsyFartsy)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, More tags as I go, No specific place in the SPN timeline, Reader Insert, Slice of life with the Winchesters, Slight Depression?, Slow Burn, Smut (skippable) in chapter 9, Some POV switches here and there, Some spoilers though, Sort of? - Freeform, Star-crossed lovers kind of trope, reader is female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-05-25 18:16:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 45,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6205609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsyFartsy/pseuds/Evaldrynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America! Another country another start.<br/>It didn't really matter to you where you were, though, as long as you could just live your life and as long as people just let you be.<br/>You had been to so many places - yet every time you thought you could finally settle down something happened that forced you to move. After a while you gave up on making friends and started to focus more and more on just staying alive. What you didn't know was that on one specific day, in that fateful café, your life would change in only a matter of seconds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flashbacks

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I wrote this a couple of years ago but I still hope you like it.  
> There are some spoilers and stuff, though I don't really follow the plot of the series.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Why was he looking at you like that? It couldn't promise anything good. You quickly began to put your stuff in your backpack and left the money for your drink under your half-full glass. Such a waste of the drink, though."_

You walked over to Sam and peeked over his shoulder, glancing at the screen of his laptop and listening to his fingers rapidly hitting the keyboard.  
“Found anything interesting?”  
“Not yet.” His eyes quickly scanned the online pages.  
You stood there quietly, examining the options that appeared on the screen, but soon decided you were of no use and walked over to the couch. 

This time the hotel you were staying was quite nice, even though it only had 2 beds - the brothers only let you sleep on the couch because you kept insisting and were too stubborn to give in. The hotelroom had a small kitchen, a bathroom and a television, and there was nothing to complain about. Not that you complained when it was smaller or less clean or anything, you were used to this kind of life even before you met them.  
After throwing yourself on the squishy sofa you frowned a bit, counting the days you had been with those guys already: 32. It had been more than a month already. They were easy to get along with - when they weren't arguing.  
Dean had been a bit smooth at the start, flirty, but as the days passed by he began to see you as a friend, and only a friend, more and more. Not that the smooth comments ever stopped, you thought with a smirk. Sam had been his protective self, trying to make you comfortable and making sure nothing happened to you or Dean. And then there was Castiel. Well, not always. He was there most of the time, sometimes even without anyone noticing - which now and then led to some hilarious jumpscares on Dean's part. 

In the time you had been with them you had learned so much, not only about hunting monsters but also about their lives. About Sam's demon blood, Dean's trip to hell and back, their mother and father, and many other things. With the things you learned about them, your sympathy grew - you kept acting normal, though, which was a comfort for them.  
Your mind returned to the memory of the day you had first met them, and a small smile pulled on your lips. 

~

You were at a small café on the side of the road, a map on the table and a glass of your favourite drink in your hand. There weren't many other customers, which at the same time did and didn't surprise you. It was quite a nice café, cheap, clean and with friendly staff, but it was pretty secluded. You awoke from your thoughts as you saw something black drive up the parking lot from the corner of your eye. You had learned to be cautious, and even though you were quite the daydreamer, you had taught yourself to be aware of almost everything and everyone around you as a means of protection. You turned your head to look at the Impala and the 3 guys that got out of it. Quite interesting figures, handsome too.  
The guy who had been driving had dirty blond hair, green eyes, and was wearing jeans combined with a simple T-shirt and leather jacket. He was talking to the tallest guy of the group, who was wearing a coat of a lighter colour. This man had brown hair but the same green eyes, so you assumed they were family, brothers perhaps. The other one was a bit peculiar. He had black hair and very blue eyes, and his face showed no emotion. His clothes were a bit different from the others as well, a trench coat and a tie. Your heart jumped a bit when he suddenly noticed you, making eye contact. His eyes grew wider. You felt uneasy, knowing you shouldn't have stared. But your own feelings of awkwardness weren't the only thing that made your heart race slightly: he was staring at you intently. Why was he looking at you like that? It couldn't promise anything good. You quickly began to put your stuff in your backpack and left the money for your drink under your half-full glass. Such a waste of the drink, though. 

You had been chased before, and you didn't want to end up with cuts and bruises all over the place again. You swung your backpack over your shoulder and looked at the window – but they weren't there anymore. You tried not to panic, which surprisingly seemed to work, and looked around for any other exits. There were none. You sighed softly, blaming yourself for not checking for possible exits before entering. You hoped this was just your paranoia acting up. Maybe they weren't even here for you?  
But that thought was quickly dismissed as the guy with the black hair and trenchcoat walked- no, strode towards you, the other two still stood outside. You scanned him for anything that indicated he was hiding weapons, but he didn't seem to have any, and before you knew it he was standing right in front of you. Adrenaline rushed through you as your body prepared you to either fight or flee, but you were surprised when he spoke.  
“Come with me, we need to talk.”  
His voice was low and a bit gruff, which fitted his appearance quite well. He also sounded like someone you certainly didn't want to argue with, but his eyes told you he wasn't really a man of killing. This didn't mean you trusted him for one second. So you just nodded, hoping that you would be ready if he, or his friends, tried anything. And as if he could read your thoughts, he spoke again, this time in a softer tone.  
“Do not worry, we are not here to harm you.”  
You were puzzled, but before you could ask whatever it was that he wanted from you, he turned around and left the building. You had no choice but to follow him. 

 

You stepped outside and closed the door behind you, all without taking your eyes off of the guys who were standing in front of you.  
“Well hello there~” the one with the leather jacked smiled smoothly. “I'm Dean, and you are?”  
The taller guy sighed and seemed a bit irritated.  
You reluctantly gave them your name after wondering whether you should make one up, still not quite sure of what the hell was going on.  
“Pleased to meet you, I'm Sam and this is my brother, Dean, and that's Castiel.” The taller one, Sam apparently, said before the other guy, Dean, had the opportunity to speak again. You looked from the brothers to Castiel and back.  
“So, why did you want to talk to me?” you asked, your head a bit tucked to the side with a questioning look in your eyes. You could feel the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, your arms ready to swing and your legs ready to run.  
“You need to travel with them.”  
For a few seconds you just stood there and stared at Castiel, but then you regained the ability to talk again. “Why?” you asked a bit dumbfounded. “No offense, but I don't know you at all.”  
“That are orders. You need to protect them and they need to protect you.”  
“Orders?” With every answer he gave you found yourself with even more questions.  
“He's an angel.” Sam said with a slightly apologizing voice.  
Now you really didn't know anything anymore. You tried to say something but were unable to even utter a word, so you turned your head to Castiel again. Not knowing if they were mocking you, you asked if they were serious.  
“Very serious.” Dean replied while you were still looking at Castiel. His face stayed emotionless but his eyes... there was something about his eyes but you couldn't quite figure out what.  
“I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord.” And the moment he said that, shadows of two unfolding wings appeared on the wall behind him.  
With wide eyes you looked at the shadows behind him, the only thing indicating that there were actually wings. You wanted to walk around the guy, to see if it wasn't just some kind of trick, but instead you softly touched him, to see if he was really there and not an illusion himself.  
“Oh my god...” you said, then quickly apologized and withdrew your hand. He seemed a bit confused.  
“So, why do we have to protect each other?” you asked, now rather serious. Even though you weren't sure what to think, you convinced yourself to play along. You looked at the brothers and noticed they were grinning, but you ignored it.  
“It is our duty as gentlemen to protect a beautiful wom-”  
“Dean shut up.” Sam's face clearly showed his irritation. The scene made you chuckle slightly. 

 

They had decided it was best to go somewhere without other people that could possibly listen to their conversation, and you had agreed. You knew this was a stupid thing to do, and you immediately regret getting in their car. Maybe the last weeks of semi-peace had made you rusty or aching for some action. Had you stooped so low? Had you become that person in a horror movie that does all the stupid shit and gets killed the first? You mentally facepalmed and tried to think of all the possible things that could happen and how you could escape them. But the drive was quiet, awkward even, until you stopped on the side of the road in the middle of a forest. Castiel stated that there was an open area between the trees not far from here, and so the four of you silently walked in the direction he mentioned. It didn't take long to get there.  
Young green grass bathed in sunlight and the clouds were drifting by slowly. The place was beautiful, serene even, and surrounded by enormous trees. 

“Can you please explain why we have to 'protect' each other?” You mused, knowing you needed no protection. You could perfectly handle yourself, thank you very much. You were still unsure you could trust them, but unbeknownst to them, you were in the advantage now.  
“It are orders.” Castiel answered with his gruff voice.  
“Yeah, yeah, 'orders'," you waved his answer away, knowing you wouldn't get a clear one, "but who are you, and what do I have to protect you from?”  
Sam looked a bit surprised about the formulation of the question. “Protect each other, you mean?” He looked at you as if he was searching for something.  
You quickly nodded.  
“We hunt monsters.” Dean gave you a wink, as if this statement of his would bring in all the ladies.  
You didn't know many other 'ladies', to be truthful, but on you it had quite the opposite effect. Your eyes grew slightly wider and your heart started to beat faster. Shit.  
You looked at Castiel, grabbed his wrist not so gently, and pulled him a few meters away from the others, leaving them in utter confusion.  
“ I assume you know me because you seemed to recognize me within seconds. So if you do, then why did you take me to them?” You tried to whisper calmly, but you couldn't help the distressed undertone in your voice.  
“I- I just follow my orders, I do not know anything about you... Except that you need to travel with them.” He spoke slowly, frowning, puzzlement in his bright blue eyes. He wasn't the only one that was confused. 

 

After watching how Cas got dragged away Sam turned to his brother, frowning.  
“Why did she freak out just after you mentioned our job?”  
Dean shrugged. “Are you implying she's a werewolf or something? I don't think so, I mean, come on, she's hot!”  
Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, seriously. She freaked out.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “She also said that she had to protect us, not really a role most girls would play when talking about two guys, Dean. I don't know what but there is something she isn't telling us.”  
Dean looked at her for a second then turned his attention back to him, slightly more serious now. “Hey, I don't know what it is, but we will find out. Castiel trusts her, so do I. Besides, we can just ask her.”  
He sighed. “Guess you're right.” 

-

You let out a soft sigh.  
“I guess I'll have to tell them before they kill me,” you said dryly, suddenly remembering you were still holding his wrist firmly. You let go and smiled apologetically, but he seemed not to blame you. You turned around and walked back to the brothers, followed by Castiel, steadying your breath and trying to calm your racing heart. Maybe they wouldn't kill you? You would probably be able to escape quite easily, but two men trained in killing monsters and an angel with unknown powers could prove to be difficult enemies. Maybe they would be up for logic reasoning.  
“I'm sorry, that was a bit rude of me.” You tried to smile as an innocent human being, whatever one might look like. Dean and Sam looked expectantly at you.  
“Why did you freak out after we told you what we do for a living?” Sam asked right away, getting an annoyed look from his brother.  
“Because if I have to travel with you, it would be best if you didn't kill me." You looked them right in their eyes, silently surprised by your own confidence. “Just watch, okay?” A sigh escaped your lips. “And you should know I never killed someone because I wanted to.” your voice was soft, almost a whisper. You looked each man in their eyes separately and allowed Sam to place a hand on your shoulder.  
“Don't worry, we won't kill you. Just show us whatever it is that you want to show us, okay?” He smiled kindly, though you could see the hint of distrust in his eyes. He pulled back his hand when you gave a curt nod.

You walked to the middle of the open field, slightly anxious. This was the first time you showed your 'ability' to someone voluntarily and you really really hoped they wouldn't grab a gun and shoot you dead at the spot. Your hands were shaking even though you tried to hide it, looking at the guys once more. Then you changed. No sparkles, light or sound effects. Nope. They would just blink and you were different. Where first your feet touched the ground were now 2 big, feline-like paws. You lifted your head and twisted your ears to the front, moved your long tail a bit and stretched your large wings. This was you as a griffin. Not totally a griffin though, you didn't have the claws of a bird nor the lion tail but just 2 sets of tiger-size paws and a more panther-like tail. You were big enough to carry someone on your back, but small enough the be quick and agile. Glancing at them, you saw that their eyes were wide open, even Castiel's face showed surprise. Sam's mouth was open and Dean's face was hilarious, so when you changed back you desperately tried not to laugh. You didn't know if you should stay there or walk towards them, you didn't want to scare them. A slight sadness grew a bit bigger in your being. So many people would be afraid of you, they would call you a monster. Some people that had 'spotted' or found out about you had even started clubs or had formed teams, trying to track you down and kill you, for you were 'a servant of the devil' or 'the discovery of the century'. They had cornered you, caught you in traps and with nets, even if you weren't in your griffin-form. You mostly blamed yourself for being careless and for being seen.  
Putting a (forced) smile on your face, you decided to walk back towards them again. Your hands were still trembling a bit, so you slid them in your pockets, hoping they wouldn't notice. 

You had stopped a couple of meters away from them and waited for them to speak. Maybe you waited for a judgment, a scream, a shot, but you got nothing. They just stood there, silently staring at you with wide eyes of surprise. Hilarious and quite cute, which made you chuckle again - although the chuckle might have been nerves as well.  
“So yeah, that is my... 'ability'.” you smiled obliquely. Sam's face changed a bit, a short surprised chuckle.  
“But that's amazing,” he said with astonishment in his voice.  
“Hell yeah, that was amazing!” Dean now had an enormous smile all over his face, “Welcome to the team!”  
Now it was your turn to be surprised. You looked over to Castiel, but his face was still full of surprise and confusion, and you wondered if he ever felt something else. You really wanted any sort of approval from him, maybe because he was an angel. Would you be a monster in his eyes? You were not biblical or anything, but you hoped he wouldn't think of you like that. You turned your attention back to Sam and Dean.  
“But you said you hunt monsters..." You frowned slightly, " Why would you let me in your team?”  
“You said you never killed anyone because you wanted to. Do you kill people to eat or by force of habit?” Sam asked, a patient tone in his voice.  
You shook your head. “Never.”  
“Then we don't have to kill you,” Dean said, smiling, “we only kill monsters that harm others.” Another wink.  
“Do you think I can be of any help?” You really wanted to have a purpose in life. Maybe this was the opportunity you had silently been hoping for, killing the evil and protecting the innocent.  
“Sure! Can you handle a gun or a knife?”  
You nodded. “Both.”  
“Okay good! But you'll have to learn much, and maybe not go full-on griffin unless there's no other option.” Dean gave you a pat on your shoulder.

And so it started. You began to travel with them, learning what was needed to kill the specific kinds of creatures or what would at least buy you some time. They even let you read their fathers diary after a couple of weeks, which was a great source of information and an honour as well. When you weren't learning from the 'real deal', as Dean called it, you were studying and trying to remember everything that you read. You had the advantage that you could speak and read in Latin, making the exorcisms quite easy to remember. They often took you with them on hunts, but if it was too dangerous you would stay at the hotel, drawing, playing cards, studying, or talking with Castiel. A slight hint of delight and bliss was constantly present. You could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Comments and Kudos are really appreciated <3  
> Feel free to ask anything!


	2. A Dislike for Vampires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Got all the knives ready?” Sam glanced at you over his shoulder while packing his stuff._   
>  _“All good to go.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's quite a short chapter, sorry! S:  
> I hope you'll like it anyway

The couch was comfortable and you were lost in thought, your mind was constantly switching between subjects. It was something that happened to you pretty often - if you felt safe enough. With them you did, as if their presence alone had a calming effect. 

You were suddenly pulled back into reality when Sam shouted through the room, immediately followed by an annoyed groan from Dean.  
“Vampires!”  
“I hate vampires.” Deans voice was as full of irritation as his groan had been mere seconds before, and he slid down even further into the couch. You smiled sympathetically at him at first but you couldn't help but grin a little, and when he looked back at you with a not-so-amused expression stuck to his face, the grin only grew. 

__

“Got all the knives ready?” Sam glanced at you over his shoulder while packing his stuff.  
“All good to go.”  
All the blades had been treated with Dead Man's Blood, not deadly but it would buy everyone some time. Only by decapitation would you be able to kill them since Castiel couldn't come with you guys this time. A pity, you thought to yourself, he would be a strong ally. 

You looked around and expected him to be there, but when you didn’t spot his trademark trench coat, a light feeling of disappointment washed over you.  
“Are you alright?” Dean came walking towards you with a bit of concern on his face. “If you don't want to come you can stay at the hotel, we can handle this.”  
You shook your head, “I have to learn how to fight them someday anyway. I want to come with you.” You gave him a determined smile and he seemed to accept your argument.  
The three of you got in the Impala, Dean obviously driving, Sam on the passenger’s seat, and you in the back. You ignored the sounds around you and watched the blur of the outside world slide past. 

__

 

Sam sneaked to the building and looked through the small window, then turned his head to you and Dean and signed that it was clear. He let Dean and you go first, after which he closed the door behind you just as silently as he had opened it. It seemed to be even darker in here than outside until Dean turned on his flashlight. 

 

Every shadow seemed to move, every dark spot threatening. They could be anywhere, but you tried to get rid of your fear because it wouldn’t help.  
The abandoned building looked like it could collapse any moment, both on the in- and outside, and even in the night the enormous cracks in the wall were visible. Wallpaper curled off and pieces of it coated the sides of every room. A layer of dust flared up with every footstep, the floorboards creaked, and the air shifted. Despite your heart in your throat, everything was eerily silent. Sam looked at you, wordlessly asking if you were okay, and you nodded.

It felt like hours passed as the three of you silently crept through the hallways, inspecting the rooms, but only ten minutes had passed when you found them. Sam peeked through a slit in the door and signed to you and Dean what he saw - two men were tied to the chairs they were sitting on, and 4 others were standing around them. Two females.  
This was the first time you hunted this kind of monster for they were pretty rare, and the thought of decapitating someone, even if it was a vampire, wasn't something you were looking forward to.  
You pulled out your knife and exchanged glances with Dean and Sam, who had readied their weapons as well, and gave a nod, after which shit went down quickly. 

Dean bashed in the door and all three of you ran towards the vampires, their faces laced with surprise. Dean and Sam went for the two males, you ran to the other two. One was quick and jumped away to dodge your knife, but in the same move you shifted to your other foot - changing direction - and turned around, decapitating the other woman who had still been frozen by surprise. An inhuman sound came out of her mouth before her head fell off her body, sending a shiver down your spine and making the hairs in your neck stand on edge. A pool of blood quickly formed around the still twitching corpse of the woman you had just murdered. Your stomach twisted. It wasn't the blood though, but the act of separating one's head from their torso, something you had done only a few seconds ago. Of course you had killed before, although involuntarily, so why would it affect you now? 

Before you could recover from the sudden feeling of nausea you saw the other woman coming at you from the corner of your eye, and you could only _just_ dive away from her sharp nails that were ready to slit your throat. In your ungraceful dive you lost your hold and bashed into the wall with your shoulder. You held back a pain-induced scream and ignored the burning sensation - you had to, because the vampire ran towards you with immense speed. You rolled over and grabbed your knife from the place you had dropped it, but there was only just time enough to get up again. You held the pointy thing towards the flash of movement that rushed at you but knew it had no use, you could be dead any second now. With your eyes squinted shut you waited for the inevitable, mad at yourself for being such a clumsy shit. You knew it would kill you one day.  
You hoped Sam, Dean, and Castiel wouldn't remember you as the ‘griffingirl’, the girl who had the ability to transform into a powerful being but was gruesomely slayed by something as primitive as a vampire.  
Suddenly a bright light shone through your eyelids and the warmth and sensation of someone standing very close to you appeared. You heard a loud thud, afraid it was the sound of your own deadly-injured body hitting the ground, but you felt no pain. After what felt like minutes, but had been seconds, you realised you weren’t actually dead and opened your eyes. The first thing you saw was a khaki coloured trench coat. Castiel turned towards you and you looked him in his eyes, they were bright blue and full of concern. 

“Are you okay?” He asked you with his low, surly voice, an undertone of worry audible. You realized you had been holding your breath and quickly emptied your lungs.  
“Yeah I'm fine” you were able to utter after a couple of seconds of trying to calm down, yet your heart was still beating two times faster than it should. He reached out his hand and gently touched your shoulder, firstly followed by a painful sting cutting through your flesh but then replaced by a warm, soothing sensation that somehow took away the pain.  
“Thank you” you said, unable to raise your voice above a whisper. You sighed of relief, both because of the evicted pain and of the comfort of his touch. 

He had saved you.

This realisation made your heart contract for a moment and a weird warmth spread through your being.  
His kind smile was like balm on the mental wound of your shock.

“____! Is everything alright?” Sam and Dean came running towards you, leaving the bodies on the floor and the men tied to the chairs. Cas took, to your slight disappointment, a step to the side.  
“Are you okay?” Sam asked and you gave him a slight nod.  
“I'm okay,” a small, trembling smile appeared on your lips. “I don’t think I like vampires very much though.” 

As you got back to the hotel, the first thing you did was locking yourself in the small bathroom. With your arms stretched and elbows locked you leaned on the sink and stared at yourself through the mirror. Only now that you saw your own face you noticed – and felt - the blood splatters on your face, clothing and hands.  
You quickly cleaned you hands and rinsed your face, repeating the action a couple of times even after all the red was gone, and sat down on the toilet seat. Although most of the shock had disappeared during the drive back it still took some minutes to completely stop your hands from trembling. This day, this hunt, would always stick with you and you knew it. Even though it was mostly because of the decapitation, there was a slight speck of light to it as well. Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Every comment and critique is appreciated ;D
> 
> I will try to upload one chapter every day, but as these couple of weeks will be quite buisy and stressful, some chapters might be delayed a couple of days, sorry!


	3. Drawing Lessons and Teasing Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Would you like to try?”_   
>  _He frowned slightly as he thought about it, then nodded._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's quite late so I apologise if there are many grammar/spelling mistakes or if whole sentences just sound weird. I'll check it later ;3

Werewolves. Check.  
Wendigos. Check.  
Gosts. Check.  
Mostly demons, though. 

You had noticed the brothers’ hate towards demons. They weren’t the easiest, you had to admit, but they sure were the most annoying pieces of shit you had ever encountered. So full of themselves as well, which only filled you with bitter irony after killing them.  
The blood on your hands still troubled your mind both when you were awake and asleep. During a good hunt your own inner demons were silent, only to re-emerge later – now with some extra murders to haunt you with. It seemed that life had some irony up its sleeve for you as well. 

It hadn't occurred to you that Sam had noticed you were having trouble sleeping sometimes, so when he held a plastic bag in the air – right in front of your face – you looked at him with slight confusion. He only smiled warmly, his eyes telling you to take the bag from him. Silently doing what he wordlessly asked and looking inside, you firstly noticed something rectangular, which you immediately recognised as a sketchbook. There was a set of pencils as well. Your face lit up as you took out the items and let your fingers brush over the quality pages. It had been such a long time, only now you noticed how much you had missed it.  
“I haven't seen you draw in a while. Maybe it will help you... relax?”  
You smiled at him, eyes full with gratitude.  
“Yeah, I think it will. Thanks!”  
“And know that, if there's anything else, just ask. Okay?”  
He looked worried for a bit, which only made your smile grow wider. Sure, it was selfish of you to want him to feel concerned about your wellbeing, but not many people had shown much interest in you as a person in your life. The feeling was quite new to you, to be honest, and it warmed your heart when you thought about it. You cared about them just as much, if not more, and had almost started to see them as some kind of family – even though it had only been about four months since you had met them. 

Time seemed to move extremely slow and terrifyingly fast at the same time. Besides hunts and studying, you often took some small jobs here and there to earn some money. It wasn't always easy to find a place where you could work for only a couple of days or weeks, and not all jobs were equally great, but you were glad to be of use. With the money you would be able to pay for your own food and clothes, as well as save a bit for later. You liked being independent, and you had been such for most of your life. 

Only when you opened the sketchbook and took one of the pencils between your fingers, Sam walked away to get his laptop. He sat down next to you on the couch and was soon lost in the virtual world of articles and websites. The two of you sat in comfortable silence until, after about an hour of sketching, you felt the air shift a bit. Sam never quite noticed, so when you greeted Castiel without even looking up from the sketchbook he gave a short chuckle and shook his head in wonder.  
Castiel greeted you back, acknowledging Sam's presence as well. He stood behind you, curiously peeking over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of what you were drawing. You went over the doodles and sketches shortly, answering his unasked question. You usually didn't like it when people looked at your drawings without asking, but you didn't mind making an exception for Castiel.  
“It is very beautiful.”  
His statement brought a rosy colour to your cheeks – compliments weren't your strongest point. You kindly thanked him.  
“Would you like to try?”  
He frowned slightly as he thought about it, then nodded. You moved over to Sam, who adjusted his position to give you some nore space, and watched Castiel sit down next to you. The hotel sofa wasn't the largest, and was probably only made for two people, but even after giving Sam a glare he wouldn't move. You let out a brief sigh when he kept ignoring you (which only pulled his smile up a bit further) and focused on Cas instead. You gave him the pencil and sketchbook and asked what he would like to draw.  
You soon noticed he wasn't very good at it, that was for sure, but he was a quick learner. He followed the steps and applied the tricks you gave him, and after about an hour or so – time truly flew by – he put something quite decent on paper. 

The slight sparkle in his eyes and his posture, completely focused on drawing, told you he greatly enjoyed it. He doodled on some more without your help and you studied him. His eyes seemed even fuller of colour than usual, and you kinda thought it was adorable. His facial expressions switched while drawing, lips parting, touching, parting occasionally. You were fascinated. You noticed only a second too late that he was now looking at you and had said something. But what? He held up the sketchbook and you could see the pride in his eyes, so you quickly guessed he had asked you if it looked okay – or something along those lines. You complimented him, he really did learn fast.  
“I could give you drawing lessons more frequently, if you'd like?”  
When his face lit up you couldn't help but smile, and he eagerly agreed in his trademark low voice. 

After a couple of lessons he seemed to be conflicted about something, obviously debating with himself whether or not to tell you. You gently asked him about it after which he was silent for a couple of seconds, then answered that he felt like he needed to compensate you for your time and effort, and for the sketchbook you had bought for him from the money you had saved. You laughed shortly.  
“There's no need for that! It's fun to teach you, it provides some distraction.”  
“Distraction from what?”  
There was that adorable confused face again that you had grown so used to seeing. You slightly waved his question away.  
“Oh nothing much. It's a great way to spend my free time.”  
“Are you sure you don't want any compensation?”  
“Really really sure.”  
He seemed to be thinking for a couple of seconds, then looked like he remembered something, then turned his attention to you again.  
“Wait here.”  
It was your turn to be slightly confused again as you watched him get up and disappear in the small kitchen. When he didn't re-emerge after a couple of seconds you started doodling a bit. When you looked up, awoken from your thoughts by a light thud, you noticed a cup of tea in front of you.  
“You mentioned you like tea.” It was a half-statement, half-question. You nodded, pleasantly surprised, and gave him a bright smile. He visibly relaxed when you showed you appreciated his small gesture of compensation, and from now on made you a cup of tea every lesson. 

 

Your joy did not go unnoticed.

You lay on the couch with a book in your hands, one you had borrowed from the local library. Suddenly Dean jumped on the empty spot next to you, taking on a comfortable pose and occupying most of the couch.  
“So, Castiel, hmm?”  
His grin took up about half of his face as he looked at you. You stared back, glancing over the top of your book.  
“What about him?”  
You tried to keep your voice as innocent and light as possible, yet you felt your face redden a little - luckily you had a book to hide it.  
“You know what I'm talking about.” He made a small gesture with his chin.  
“I saw the way you looked at him when we ganked those vampires before, and how you can't keep your eyes off him during your little 'drawing sessions'.”  
You looked at Sam, eyes pleading for help, but the amused smile on Sam's face was just as wide. You turned your attention back to your book, as if you weren't interested in the conversation or bothered by his question.  
“I haven't the faintest.”  
“You like him, don't you?”  
Sam's voice had not only a tone of amusement in it, but also a pleased tone, an endearing tone. As if a brother just heard his little sister has a crush.  
“A-as a friend! I mean, he saved my life and I'm very grateful and I respect him ad stuff and he's a great person and all - as a friend.”  
“You should spend more time with him, ask him out, do things together.”  
Sam continued as if you hadn't said anything just a few seconds ago. You kept your mouth shut and stared at your book without seeing anything. You had to read the same sentence more than five times to actually understand what it said. This was useless. You sighed, put down the book after placing the bookmarker on the right page, and gave both of them an unamused glare.  
Dean patted you on your knee and stood up.  
“We know you. You can't hide something like that from us,” he chuckled shortly, “and I think he likes you too.”  
You looked at him with your eyes squinted in distrust, not sure if he was joking.  
“I mean it,” he continued “The way he looks at you when you're looking in an other direction, it's the same thing.”  
Just as you thought his smile couldn't expand any further, it did.  
“It's really adorable as well.” Sam gave you a wink, the grin still plastered to his face.  
You opened your mouth to say something, closed it, opened it again and then gave up. You thought for a few seconds, then finally spoke.  
“Are you serious?”  
“Very serious.”  
“But he's an angel?”  
“So? He's also a guy, which means he can feel love, just like griffingirls can.” He tried to wiggle his eyebrows, and failed.  
“I'll call him for you, wait a second. Castiel, come out come out wherev-”  
“No no no wait you can't just-”  
The shifting air and Castiel's sudden appearance cut you off halfway your sentence.  
“What do you need me for?” He said, and before you could answer Dean already did.  
“She needs to go shopping, buy some things, probably some new shirts or something. Can you go with her? She's still a bit in shock from the whole vampire ordeal, right, ____?”  
You wanted to say something, but when once again nothing came out, you just gave Dean a pissed off look. Oh, if looks could kill.  
“That's okay, I will go with her.” Castiel looked at you and just a split second you thought you saw a little smile playing on his lips, but quickly described this as imagination. Was he part of the conspiracy as well? 

You sighed, knowing this was a fight you couldn't win. You forced your lips into a slight smile as you stood up. When you finally made direct eye contact with Castiel, he nodded and held out his hand, the look in his eyes a bit doubtful. You looked at his hand, puzzled. What was it he wanted you to do? Hold his hand while walking to the stores? You felt your cheeks warm up a bit and you softly, as not to scare him, laid down your hand on his. His fingers gently wrapped around it and you switched your eyes from your hand to his eyes, not sure what it was that you were feeling. His hand was rough, yet soft at the same time. And his eyes. Bright blue, the brightest you had ever seen. The doubt was suddenly gone, and you noticed you had been staring at him intensely.  
“We're there.”  
You frowned. What?  
Then it struck you. You weren't in the hotel with the grinning brothers anymore. You were in a street full of shops.

Your eyes grew wide as you looked around. How in the world was that even possible? You quickly decided to just accept it, however. If griffingirls, angels, demons, and vampires could exist, then why couldn't teleportation be just as real?  
“Amazing,” you sighed, with a bit of leftover disbelief, and chuckled softly.  
Then you remembered that you were holding his hand, and when you looked at it you saw his fingers were still wrapped around yours.  
“Whoops, sorry!” you uttered, reddening just a bit and withdrawing your hand as if holding his hand for too long was a crime.  
The expression in his eyes was -once again- confusion, he didn't know what you were apologizing for and you immediately felt some kind of loss. This would have been a good opportunity to keep holding his hand for a while. This thought slightly shocked you, the colour on your cheeks deepening. You weren’t going to admit you liked him. Not to Sam and Dean and not to yourself – or anyone else for that matter.  
“Well, let's get going, then!” Your voice was cheerful. The two of you started walking to the nearest grocery store (the lazy part of you wanted to ask Castiel to just teleport you to it), but because Dean had completely made it up that you needed something, you had no idea what to buy. He'd probably want you to bring him pie – he didn’t deserve it after this set up, but you decided karma would get him anyway. You decided to buy the standard things: salt, ammunition, pie, some water bottles, and some batteries. You sure as hell weren’t going to buy Dean’s Busty Asian Beauties magazine – if he wanted it, he would have to go and get it himself. 

You and Cas entered the shop and started wandering around, searching for the items you were looking for. At times like these, it annoyed you that stores were different in almost every town or city. You walked past the shelves, every few minutes glancing over your shoulder. Castiel was never far behind. Sometimes he would pick things up with an examining look in his eyes, which was kind of cute, but other times he would look straight back at you - as if he had been looking at you for some time already. When this was the case you would quickly avert your gaze to the shelves as if you were still searching for something. God, how you wished you wouldn't get red cheeks so easily. 

When you had found everything you paid and left. You were glad that you always had money with you, though never a credit card or debit card because those were traceable. Paranoid? Rightly so.  
“Do you need anything?”  
You looked at him and saw he had been looking at you again - but chose to ignore it once more.  
“No.” His answers were always so simple, yet his eyes so complicated. You could never really imagine what he was thinking, and it drove you crazy. 

Suddenly you spotted a cute little store with a style clothing you liked, and remembered that you couldn't get the bloodstains out of that set you wore last hunt. Dean was right after all, but you hated to admit it.  
“Can we take a look in that shop? As Dean already mentioned I need some new clothes. Do you mind?”  
“Not at all.”  
And there was that small, almost unnoticeable smile again. 

“Does this look presentable enough?” You asked, more to yourself than to him, and looked at the clothes you were wearing. You didn't really care about looking good or being fabulous as you were convinced that people should judge you because of who you were, and not on what you were wearing. But you didn't want to look stupid either (or attract unwanted attention), especially not when Castiel was around. You looked at him and saw he was trying to formulate an answer - sometimes looking at you, then averting his eyes down at the ground as if he was searching the floor for words to use. You turned to the mirror behind you, pulling at the fabric here and there.  
“You look great.”  
You stood still for a moment. You hadn’t actually expected an answer, and especially not a compliment. You dared to glance at him through the mirror and saw that he wasn’t looking at your clothes – he was looking you straight in your eyes.  
You didn't know what to say, hell you forgot how to speak in general for a couple of seconds. When you regained your ability to produce sounds, you half-whispered a quick thank you, swiftly returning to the changing booth to hide that damned colour on your face.

The bag with the set of clothes was light, even when you added the bag with grocery stuff to it. It was something you forced yourself to notice when Castiel held out his hand again to teleport back. Like before, you softly laid down your hand on his and once again he gently wrapped his fingers around it. His hand was so warm, so strong yet cautious as if not to harm you. It was comforting. “We're here.”  
With a small shock you came back to reality and left your thoughts behind you. You noticed you had been staring him in his eyes without blinking and embarrassment struck you immediately. You let go of his hand, looked around and saw the interior of the hotel - and the two brothers both with their characteristic grins. Dean sat on the couch, looking up from an older porn magazine, and Sam glanced at you from behind his laptop. 

“So, did you two _enjoy_ yourselves?” Dean asked ambiguously.  
“We got everything we needed.” You answered plainly, slightly raising your chin.  
You took your new set of clothes under your arm, threw the bag with groceries on Deans lap, and turned on your heels to face Castiel.  
“Thanks for taking me, I appreciate it.”  
Your smile was bright, and it made you happy to see that his eyes seemed to brighten up as well. “You're welcome.”  
You walked away, obviously ignoring Dean and Sam, and locked yourself in the bathroom. Why the bathroom? You had insisted once more that you slept on the couch and therefore didn't really have a room of your own to lock yourself in. The first thing you noticed was the jocund young woman in the mirror. Her cheeks a light red, her eyes glimmering. 

-

Dean stood up and gave Cas a friendly pat on his shoulder.  
“And how was your date?”  
Castiel looked at him with noticeable confusion, narrowing his eyes slightly.  
“I don't know what you are talking about. I protected her, like you asked me to.”  
“Didn't you have fun?”  
“I-I think so... But what does it have to do with my mission?”  
With every question, Castiel's puzzlement grew. Sam looked at Dean and Dean at Sam, exchanging a brotherly smirk.  
“So, what do you think about her?”  
This time the question came from Sam. Castiel tucked his head slightly to the side, eyes staring inot nothingness as he was thinking.  
“She is smart, and she fights well. A great asset to the team.”  
“No, we mean, personally.”  
Castiel stayed silent, trying to figure out what they meant - and then he realised.  
His eyes shot from Dean to Sam and back and he opened his mouth slightly to say something, but nothing came out for a couple of seconds.  
“I should go.”  
“No Cas, stay. We want to know.” Dean looked at him and expected an answer, now.  
“She, uhm...” he looked at the ground, averting his gaze from theirs. “She is a great friend. She is very kind, and very funny at times,” he looked up again, “But I have to go. I'll speak to you later.”  
And he was gone, leaving only a twist of air.  
Dean copied Sam’s gigantic smile.  
“Yep, he likes her.”  
He flung himself on the couch and picked up his magazine again, and Sam chuckled.  
“Our little angel grows up so fast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Comments and critiques are always appreciated, and don't be afraid to ask anything!


	4. Angels and Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Of course you didn’t know that, most of the time when you thought no one was there, he would be around. He usually kept his distance, knowing that you would probably notice him even though he was invisible._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attention! A new part was added (12-3-16) to the last chapter because I felt it was too short.  
> I hope everyone is not too much OOC up until now S:

You sat by the window of the hotel you were staying. It was a calm Sunday, the sight of the rain streaming down the glass soothed you. The grey sky fitted your mood, and somehow it was comforting. You were alone in the hotel room, making it quite dangerous to let your thoughts wander yet you couldn’t help it.  
You remembered the time you first 'changed' when you were young. The memories washed over you like a tidal wave, the tranquillity was gone now and emotions were coursing through you as everything started to play before your eyes.

You had been nine years old, and so, **so** naive. You had felt horrible. The pain flowing through your small body had been both agonizing and terrifying, and you panicked. You were home alone yet you screamed for help. For anyone, anyone at all.  
The pain on your back increased as if you were held down by blocks of concrete. Your face was wet as tears kept streaming down your face, you felt your throat growing soar. You thought you were going to die and everything around you faded to a blur. Suddenly all the pain concentrated on your shoulder blades, it felt like your flesh was being ripped open and your bones were being pulled out and you screamed, screamed until you felt like your lungs disintegrated.  
And then it was all gone.  
All the pain seemed to drain away into the ground. Your fingertips were bleeding as you had clawed at the floor, leaving deep scratches in the floorboards and wood under your nails. Your whole body was shaking, still remembering the pain you had experienced only seconds ago.  
You did not know how long you lay on the ground.  
You did not know how long it took for you to realise you were not dead.  
And you did not know when you became aware of the new sensation that felt both alien and familiar. 

At one point you crawled on your hands and knees, grabbing the nearest piece of furniture to pull yourself up. You felt heavier, _much_ heavier than before, and if you hadn’t held on to anything you would have tipped backwards. An itchy feeling made you reach for your back with one hand, only to withdraw it promptly. You glanced over your shoulder to see what it was that you had felt. Two wings. 

Two wings had appeared, perfectly connected to your still human body, no blood, no wounds, as if they had always been there. You felt new muscles and the feeling of moving them was so foreign and still so _you_ that you laughed and cried at the same time, not knowing what was going on.  
When you calmed down you tried to stand up straight, letting go of the furniture. You kept moving your wings, suddenly remembering a story your mother had told you once. A story about winged humans, called -

_Angels, my dear, are the kindest creatures in the whole world. They watch over you when your father or I are not here, to keep you safe. When you feel lonely, just remember that they are there, even though you can’t see them._

_Will they keep me safe from the monster under my bed?_

_Of course! And you know what? I think they will even kindly ask the monster to move to somewhere else._

_-Don’t tell her these stories, I don’t want her to become a social outcast or something. She’s enough with her head in the clouds already._  
_Don’t be like that. She enjoys stories and myths like these. She’s just a child, let her be._

 

Were you an angel now?  
A tiny trembling smile appeared on your small face. You were going to save people! You were going to make people happy. You were going to kindly ask all the monsters from under everyone’s bed to move.

Yet something told you that you shouldn't tell anyone. What if daddy would hate you? Would he be disappointed?  
You kept it a secret. 

 

You would go to the woods behind your house when no one was home, making sure no one was watching. Every time you let your wings appear, a little bit of the pain that was constantly present would go away, until it was completely gone. You practised moving them in all the possible directions, gaining more and more control over every muscle. You found out how you could use them to jump higher and farther, and eventually you even tried to fly. 

After your first change, your marks on school got better and better, so did your eyesight and hearing. You started training more often, still seeing the wings as proof for you being an angel. 

You were twelve now, the almost daily exercises had made you agile, inventive, smart and fast. One evening you went to the woods again, admiring the beauty of the first stars that shone through the openings in the canopy. The usual spot was as empty as always, the grass a bit higher than last week but no big changes. You walked to the middle of the small field preparing to get yours wings out once again. Every time you went to train you put on a shirt with holes cut around the places where your wings would appear or with a low back, so that you didn't ruin your clothes even more than the grass did. You did as you usually did, expecting the wings to emerge. This time was different, however.  
The forest seemed to explode around you and you fell down, a high pitch sound in your ears. 

The pain was back. 

You panicked just like you had done the first time, only this time the pain didn't concentrate on your back – it was everywhere. In every limb, every muscle and every vein, in every piece of your being. You partly crashed to the ground, now on your stretched arms and grass-stained knees. You tried to fight off the feeling of your fading consciousness, not planning to pass out in the forest. You knew the worst was yet to come and you tried to prepare yourself as much as possible, feeling the tension in your body increase.  
You didn't want to cry. You were strong now. You were an angel.  
But then everything around you seemed to collapse, to implode. The outrageous pain doubled, intensified, became almost _unbearable_ \- then ceased. 

When you opened your eyes, everything was the same yet different. You weren't that cold anymore, it wasn't that dark anymore, and the sounds that were usually only in the background now sounded louder. The night seemed fuller of details than ever before.  
Minutes, hours you stood there, getting used to all the new feelings and experiences without really knowing what had actually happened.  
Just like three years ago, you looked over your shoulder and just like then you saw two beautiful wings, but you noticed something different too. You weren’t human anymore.  
You had never been a real angel. You were a monster. 

-

You awoke from your thoughts, back in the hotel once again, and wondered what had disturbed you. You pricked up your ears, listening for any odd sound. Your eyes scanned the seemingly empty room around you. Something had changed, yet you couldn't figure out what. Everything was where it was before, but the atmosphere was more static, and the fear of not being alone made the hairs in your neck stand up straight.  
“Did I scare you?”  
You jumped and knocked over the small table and everything that had been standing on it.  
You recognised Castiel's voice and let out a sigh.  
“Only slightly.” Your voice full of sarcasm, but it was a friendly sarcasm.  
“I'm sorry.”  
You could hear he felt bad about it, but you gave him a reassuring smile.  
“No hard feelings, I was just lost in thought.”

After cleaning up and putting the tiny table back, you sat down on the chair again and Castiel sat down opposite of you. You let out a soundless sigh, your heart still beating a tad too fast.  
“You aren't happy...”  
He spoke slowly, as if he was scared that you would take offense or break down in tears. His eyes were piercing, examining, sad. The grey light that fell on his face made seemed to fill his eyes with some kind of solemnity and you admired the beauty of something so day-to-day and so simple. You pulled your lips up in a gentle smile and tried to formulate an answer.  
“Happiness is just one of many emotions. You can't always be happy.”  
His eyes narrowed for a moment, accepting the repply but still oblivious as to why you weren't happy.  
“Don't worry Cas, it will be over soon.”  
It was true, not only because you could rather easily let go of those memories, but also because you already felt better with him around. He wouldn’t take it.  
“Why aren't you happy?” 

-

He had been standing there, looking at you without you noticing - which only made sense for he had been invisible. There had been sadness in your eyes yet you seemed to be in a reality of your own, not present in this one. He figured you were lost in thought like you were most of the time when no one was around. He couldn't stand it, seeing you like this, and he didn't know what else to do than talk to you. Suddenly you seemed to ‘awake’, noticing that something was off. You glanced around the room, your whole body ready to spring into action. When you turned your head and body away from him to inspect the other side of the room, he made himself visible and stated what he had just seen in your eyes. 

He felt bad about scaring you, but when he sat down and looked in your eyes, he saw the sadness slowly flow away, your shoulders visibly relaxing. It caused a warm feeling to rise in his chest.  
Was it loneliness that was haunting you?  
Of course you didn’t know that, most of the time when you thought no one was there, he would be around. He usually kept his distance, knowing that you would probably notice him even though he was invisible – which indeed had happened a couple of seconds ago. He hadn’t been able to help himself. The way you had been sitting there, slightly hunched up as if in physical pain. 

He had wondered many times whether or not he should just make himself visible, but he didn’t know how much time you needed to be alone. Dean had told him all women needed time for themselves once in a while, but forgot to mention how many minutes or hours. He didn’t want to interrupt your thoughts, or annoy you. Did you think he was annoying? Did he play a part in your sadness? The thought made his chest contract unpleasantly for a second so he decided to ask what was bothering you. He hoped you wouldn’t say you felt alone, as he had never really felt anything like that before and therefore couldn’t help you – or maybe he hoped that you _would_ tell him you felt alone, so he could ask if you wanted him to stay with you for a while.

When you spoke his gaze moved from your eyes to your lips.  
“I... well, some thoughts just... “ You stopped for a moment.  
There are things – thoughts, that can make one feel...eh... ” Your lips were slightly parted when you stopped for a couple of seconds again. You had averted your gaze.  
“It's just... sometimes I think about my past, and think about the things I did wrong, the people I did wrong, I.. I... it – it just makes me sad.”  
You seemed to be embarrassed about your confession, moving your hands over your face. He didn’t quite know what to do because he hadn’t expected this answer. If only he knew your history.  
“Would you mind telling me?”  
And so you told him. He noticed you were leaving some things out, maybe they were too painful to talk about, or maybe they didn’t matter much. He listened intently. The more you told him, the more his chest contracted. He felt pity, he felt the need to reassure you that you hadn’t done anything wrong, that you had been so young. He felt the need to hold you close to him.  
He saw little droplets fall from under your hands, leaving small stains on the small table. Near the end your voice began to shake a little, and he saw you desperately trying to suppress it.  
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He gently took one of your hands and slowly pulled it down. He looked you in your eyes and hoped you would see he meant it, that he was there for you if you needed him. At first you gave a small huff as if to deny it, and avoided looking him in the eyes. He gave a small squeeze in your hands, almost forcing you to return his gaze, and so you did. Your face was stained, your cheeks a little rosy from crying, and you were beautiful nevertheless.  
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

You looked at him, silent for a couple of seconds, and doubt silently rose in his mind. Did you dislike it that he had said that? Should he have said something else? Should he have said nothing at all? You suddenly stood and he didn’t know why but he copied your action, he had the urge to stop you if you ran away. But you didn’t run – no, quite the opposite. You stepped forward and hugged him, your arms around his waist. Surprised as he was, he knew you were in need of comfort and wrapped his arms around you to pull you even closer.  
You buried your face in his trench coat, tightening your hold of him. Your shoulders shook slightly, your soft sniffs the only sound in the old hotel room. He laid his head on top of yours. Your hair was soft, your smell hypnotising, and he didn’t want you to let go. 

-

Suddenly the door opened and two brothers stepped into the room. You quickly let go of Castiel but you two had been seen, you could clearly see how their face changed from surprised to greatly amused. Deans grin was inhumanly wide and when he spoke you could hear exactly how much he enjoyed seeing your red face.  
“I'm sorry for interrupting you, please continue.”  
His eyebrows shot up for a moment, defiant, challenging. He would be long dead if your glances could kill.  
You turned back to Castiel and smiled gratefully at him.  
“Thank you, I needed that.”  
You walked past the brothers without making eye contact, grabbed your jacket, and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Kudos and comments make me happy <3  
> Please feel free to ask questions!


	5. Sweet Sweet Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“She's out there, go talk to her.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much short  
> Very fluff  
> so rain

Dean smirked at Sam for a moment before turning to Castiel.  
“So, what was all that about?”  
Castiel looked at him with narrowed eyes. “I was comforting her.”  
“So you don't feel anything else for her? Is she just a friend or colleague to you?”  
This came from Sam. Castiel kept silent and just looked at them, then averted his gaze and looked through the window.  
“She's out there, go talk to her.”  
Dean took off his coat and put it on the coat rack, “Or make sure she doesn't catch a cold.”  
He watched Cas for a few seconds until he was suddenly gone, leaving the usual twist of air.  
“He must really like her. I mean, when was the last time he went away for his own business?”  
Sam looked at the spot where Castiel just had been, then turned to Dean.  
“Exactly. I really hope he offers her his coat.” He chuckled and looked out of the window. 

You didn’t really care that it was still raining. Neither did you care about where you were going. You had your mobile phone, some cash, and you knew the way back to the hotel. As long as you didn’t let your mind wander too much, you would be safe.  
Your hair stuck to your face as the rain poured down and you kept walking, nowhere in particular but never too far. Cautious, aware of every movement and sound around you. 

You stopped at a lamppost to look around and to push the wet hair out of your face. Suddenly Castiel stood next to you but this time you didn't physically jump in surprise – only your heart skipped a beat.  
“Hey.”  
You greeted him with a smile and he answered it, even though it was almost unnoticeable.  
“Hey.”  
You liked his voice. Low and gruff, but also gentle and caring. You wished he’d speak more. Of course you could get him to talk by initiating a conversation, but you never knew whether he answered because he wanted to speak to you, or just to be polite. When he spoke first you felt slightly honoured, and listened with extra focus. But here you stood, in the pouring rain, unsure whether to start a conversation or not. The silence was slightly awkward, and Castiel shuffled slightly as if he, too, was debating with himself if he should speak.  
“Do you want my coat?”  
He asked it slowly, as if it was a crime to offer one’s coat to a lady, and you chuckled. He probably wasn't aware of the romance one could see in his offer. A smile played on your lips as you answered.  
“Nah, I’ve probably already caught a cold, and it is no use if you catch one too. But thank you for asking.” 

For a minute or two you just stood there in silence, a comfortable one this time. You were soaked to the bone but you didn’t really mind, you enjoyed Castiels presence. If you went back to the hotel now, you knew for sure the teasing and joking would never end - and you weren’t really in the mood for that. You guessed it was just another thing that came with having brothers. You just wished you had something to tease them back with.  
You didn’t regret hugging Cas, though. You remembered his arms around you, and the comfort it had provided. You had needed it. You remembered how you had leaned against him, how his warmth had surrounded you. How he had buried his face in your hair, the soft prickling of his stubble in your neck. You remembered his smell. Your stomach twisted and your heart contracted, but not unpleasantly so.  
After a sudden rush of warmth had subdued you noticed how cold you actually were. The shops were closed, it was a Sunday after all, so there was nowhere warm to take shelter – and you still refused to go back.  
You started shivering slightly and you wrapped your arms around yourself, putting your hands under your arms to keep them warm and your fingers functioning. You heard a rustling sound and you saw Castiel move in your peripheral vision. Soon after, you felt a coat being wrapped around you, like a warm barrier shielding you from the freezing rain, and you accepted it gratefully.  
You took a step to the side until you stood against him, one hand holding both edges of the coat to keep it from slipping from your shoulders. .  
“Why is it always you who comforts me? You must be so busy with stuff upstairs and whatever... angels... do.”  
It was more of a thoughtless rhetorical question, so it surprised you when he answered.  
“I’m here for you if you need me.”  
It was such an simple answer yet it made your heart swell, sending another wave of delightful warmth through your body. You felt his arm around your waist, carefully, hesitant. You turned to face him, gently grabbed his tie, and placed your lips against him in a tender kiss. Your stomach twisted and your heart picked up its pace.  
When you broke off the kiss you kept hold of his tie and leaned with your forehead against his chest.  
“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I'm so sorry it's short  
> 


	6. Wounds Leave Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Even though the memory was old, the pain was fresh. Every time you remembered, you re-opened the wound, and all that was ugly came spilling out._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one, sorry! Maybe just some sort of filler chapter explaining a bit more of the Reader's past. I hope you enjoy it anyway! :3

You got into the Impala. Sam, Dean and you had just completed another hunt and were terribly tired - those ghosts surely didn’t want to lose the fight. You got some scratches on your arms from those damn knives that suddenly flew at you, but you were fast and had been able to dodge them. Well, sort of. Great, more bloodstains om your shirt.  
Dean started the car and glanced over at the map in Sam's hands.  
“How far ‘till the next hotel?”  
You couldn’t hear what Sam replied because your head was filled with music, your earplugs a barrier between reality and your thoughts. You had spent much more time thinking since you started to travel with them, and it actually drove you mad. Sometimes you wondered how people didn’t go insane. You had tried to distract yourself from thinking too much in so many ways: drawing, reading, going for walks - but that kiss, _damn_. It just wouldn’t stop haunting you. 

His soft lips. His coat still warm from his body.  
_Stop._  
His hand on the small of your back. His smell.  
_Stop._  
His firm chest. His heartbeat.  
**_Stop. Thinking. Now._**  
You couldn’t allow yourself to think about the fact that you wanted to kiss him again. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about you being attracted to him like a moth to a flame. And yet it was the only thing you could possibly think about. What would his father think about it?  
You looked up at the ceiling of the car, as if you could look through it and ask God himself, but of course, you couldn’t. You realized how silly your whole situation actually was and a silent sigh escaped your lips. This was madness. You, a griffin, had fallen in love with an angel. It was like the Beauty and the Beast, yet he was the Beauty and you the Beast. You silently hoped your story would have an happy ending as well.

Your mind wandered to the darker parts of your thoughts.  
That night you found out you had been a monster instead of an angel was still one of your darkest memories, and it could turn you disconsolate within seconds.  
After you had turned back to your human form that night, you cried until the moss had started to flourish, fed by tears, and the sky had turned black. You weren’t an angel. Had never been and would never be. You were a nightmare that haunted children, made them scared of their own wardrobes and deprived them from sleep because they were too scared you would rip them to pieces when they closed their eyes. You didn’t want to be like this. It wasn’t fair. How could you endure smiling all the time as if you were still the same, when the truth was so abhorrent? 

You just continued living. You kept training in secret. You couldn’t make your wings appear separately from the rest, so you just trained your whole form and the changing to it until it didn’t feel like your body was being pulled apart anymore. Maybe you should have been glad that you couldn’t make your wings appear separately, too. It would only have reminded you of who you weren’t. 

Then money became an issue, and your family started travelling. A Motorhome would now be considered your house, and for a few years the only luxury were the groceries you had to buy at the local shops and the education your parents still paid for. However, even this life wasn’t meant to be yours. One evening you went to the woods, like those hundreds of times before, but you didn’t dare go far, afraid you would get lost - not knowing this would settle your fate.  
Your mother was ill and your father had the task to watch over you. That evening he followed you, to see what you were up to. As foolish as you were, you didn’t notice him until it was too late. When you had changed, your hearing and eyesight had become more sensitive and it was only then you noticed the man between the trees with a look of horror on his face. You took a step back and hoped that he would understand you meant no harm, that you were still you, but the look in his eyes left no secrets. You were not his daughter, not even anything close. 

He ran back, shouting, stumbling, and got his gun. You panicked and didn’t know what to do. If you changed back and he would shoot you, your life would end there and then. If you stayed like this you could be seen by others who might be attracted to the sound of the yelling man that you considered to be your dad.  
Before you could even decide you heard a shot, and a bullet struck the tree next to you. In fear you started to run, fully in control of the inhuman muscles. A few more loud bangs hit the night and bullets came flying past you - you were lucky it never hit target.  
You ran and ran until your paws were sore and your body weary. Somewhere, not knowing where exactly, you changed back and cried, cried until your eyelids were heavy and you fell asleep under the stars of a foreign sky.

The next years you learned all about survival. You built up some sort of part-time lives in the villages you came across while travelling. With the money you earned you paid for your essentials such as food, clothes, and other things you needed to survive. To save the money, you slept in the woods instead of a hotel. Often you would find a job as a waitress (where mostly guys would give you tips), but sometimes you were even more lucky and got a better job with better payment. Over the years you had saved quite a lot and leaned even more.  
But you had been spotted a couple of times, your griffin-self, and that had caused you a lot of trouble. One man of some extremist branch of some kind of religion started a club to hunt you down, saying you were ‘A servant of the Devil’ and all what not. Sometimes it was a close call, and after some fights both them and you were severely damaged - but you always managed to escape before they could kill you. They got smarter, however. The more they found out about you during combat, the deadlier they became. People, human like you had been so many years ago, had turned against you. 

You had accepted life as it came and made the most of it, but after meeting Sam and Dean you had finally felt safe. You didn’t really enjoy hunting, but you were happy to save innocent people and to spend time with people who you cared for. You wished with all of your being they would never turn against you. 

 

A tear formed in one of your eyes. Even though the memory was old, the pain was fresh. Every time you remembered, you re-opened the wound, and all that was ugly came spilling out. You disliked it, of course, but you knew that it brought you here. If one thing had been off, you might not have met the brothers. You might not have met Castiel. And you might never have fallen in love.


	7. A Certain Bearded Fella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When you arrived you firstly noticed all the stacked and wrecked cars that were laying about, spread over a few acres. You assumed he lived in one of the buildings rather than in one of the cars, but anything was possible, really._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to upload all the chapters before the end of this week!  
> Please enjoy <3

“Let's go see Bobby!”   
You turned your head towards Dean.   
“Who is Bobby?”   
A slight tone of confusion crept into your voice. You remembered various times when his name had been mentioned, even a few mentions in their dad's diary, but you had never met him nor you knew who he really was. Both of them smiled, perhaps re-playing some good memories in their heads, and Sam turned to you.   
“He's like, our uncle, but he was like a dad for us. You'll like him, don't worry.”   
But you weren't worrying about you liking him, it was the other way around. You took it that he was a hunter too, which meant he disliked –maybe even hated - monsters, and that in its turn probably meant bad news for you. Maybe you could just hide it? Yeah, you could just leave it unmentioned in the first place. You wouldn’t be lying, just not telling the truth either. 

“Hello.”   
Your heart skipped a beat.   
Your lips pulled up in a broad smile which was aimed at Cas, who had appeared in the seat next to you.  
You replied with a warm “Hi!”, after which you averted your gaze from his bright blue eyes to the brothers.   
“How far of a drive is it?”  
“It's not very far, we'll be there in five minutes.”   
From the corner of your eye you saw Castiel watching you with that usual, puzzled look. But there was something about it this time. Was there another emotion mixed through it? You couldn't quite see it from the corner of your eye and you didn't dare to look him straight in his eyes, so you just looked at the passing landscapes through the window. You desperately kept your thoughts away from ‘Castiel’ and started to think about ‘Bobby’ instead. In your head you formed a picture of what you thought he would look like and a quick chuckle escaped from your lips, but for the rest of the drive the only sound was the humming of the engine. 

When you arrived you firstly noticed all the stacked and wrecked cars that were laying about, spread over a few acres. You assumed he lived in one of the buildings rather than in one of the cars, but anything was possible, really. You and Cas followed the brothers across the property to one of the buildings. You hesitated at the stairs to the front porch, yet you quickly followed and showed no fear whatsoever on the outside - though inside you were shaking. You kept your hands in your pockets and your eyes fixed on the door as Dean knocked.   
“Bobby, it's us!”   
Some mumbling sounds came from the inside of the house, followed by a bumping noise and a sound you identified as books falling. A smile played on your lips as you heard many locks being unlocked, and finally the door opened, showing a slightly old man with a beard that covered most of his face.   
“Who is that?”  
He asked with a rather deep voice -yet not as deep as Castiel's.  
“Bobby, this is ____. _______, this is Bobby.” Dean said, smiling from Bobby to you and back.  
“Nice to meet you,” Bobby mumbled, still a bit startled, then turned to all of you and asked you to get inside.

It was lovely inside (though a bit messy). You loved books and the place was full of them. You took a seat in the living room, which seemed to be the ‘library’ part of the house as well. Curious as you were, you let your eyes wander through the room.   
It didn't only look old, it _felt_ old, but in a good way. It really was a home, maybe not to you but certainly to the brothers and Bobby. He handed the guys -except from Castiel- a beer and sat down, looking from Dean to you.   
“So the two of you are in a relation or what?”   
“No!” you both replied quickly at the same time.   
“No, I'm hunting with Sam and Dean, nothing more.”   
You chuckled and looked at the guys. They were your family now and you felt you belonged here with them and Castiel. If they trusted Bobby, then so did you. You felt a little bit safer.   
“So who are you then? Where do you come from? How did you meet my boys?”   
He didn't sound offensive or obtrusive, just interested and a bit surprised still.   
“Well, ehm, I’m not actually from America, which you might have noticed by my accent.” He nodded, but the brothers exchanged a few looks and a slight smile crept on your face. “I have travelled a lot and after a while decided to go to America because it's... bigger. Many places to...” _Hide._ “To explore and stuff. And then I met Sam and Dean in a café.”   
It was completely simplified, stripped of any details, and you hoped he would leave it at that - but of course he didn't. Bobby looked at you, his eyes narrowing slightly for a moment.  
“So that's all there is?” he asked slowly, a bit suspiciously, and you quickly glanced at the guys for some support. Castiel was, well, Castiel, Dean was too busy being amused by your awkward situation, and Sam wasn't going to help you either. Great.   
“Go on, tell him about your life.”   
Dean nudged his chin to the side and you looked at Bobby again, completely silent. Hadn’t you just decided that you could trust Bobby? Maybe it was just that you didn’t like telling your story. It felt too... personal. But you didn’t really have a choice.   
You told him your life as you had told Dean and Sam. You left out the detail on you being a griffin, you just said 'changing', so that you might postpone your inevitable death by murder a little bit longer. 

“And then I met Cas, Sam, and Dean. The last months mostly consisted of Motels and hunts and stuff - and now I’m here.”   
You smiled nervously, shooting a quick glance at Cas for some reassurance.   
Bobby had grown more interested with every sentence you spoke and you knew he trusted you, even though it was mostly because the brothers did so as well.   
“So, what was it you changed in?”   
He sounded cautious, sure there was something 'shocking' coming up. And you answered.  
“A griffin.”   
His eyes grew wide in bewilderment.   
“Not shitting...” he exclaimed in his deep voice. You chuckled slightly, relieving some built up tension. You noticed Castiel shifting slightly on his chair and you looked at him. Was something wrong? But Bobby quickly got your attention again, not by speaking to you but to the brothers.   
“You know for sure we can trust her?”   
Sam and Dean answered positively at the same time.   
It brought a smile to your face and made your heart swell a bit. Bobby turned to you again.  
“Well then. Show me.”

 

You felt the soft earth beneath your shoes as you stood there, behind a large shed on a car graveyard and surrounded by four others at a few meters distance. Sam and Dean tried to send you some comfort by smiling at you, and Castiel just observed with his blue eyes, but his presence was enough to calm you down. Something about his look gave you the shivers, but as usual you ignored it. And then there was Bobby, looking expectantly, waiting.   
Okay.   
They blinked, you were different.   
It felt great to stretch your wings again, it had been weeks! Hunts barely ever called for desperate measures, you changing being one of them, and so you had silently been longing for a chance to become your other self. But being in front of Cas or Bobby hadn’t really been part of it, though. You didn’t fear Bobby anymore but you still felt awkward about this whole ordeal, and you always felt weird when you changed in front of Cas. 

Your mind gave a soft sigh of relief and you folded the feathered limbs back against your flanks.   
For a moment your attention was focused on your front paws, nails digging into the earth. After a couple of seconds, however, curiosity got the best of you and forced you to look at Bobby. His lips were parted – well, as far as you could see, anyway, with that beard -and his eyes big.   
You turned back , luckily your clothes would return completely (which you were infinitely grateful for), and laughed softly.  
Lifting your chin a bit higher you looked him straight in his eyes, ready for whatever judgement he was going to make. He seemed to take a moment to collect his thoughts, after which he took a couple of steps towards you. Out of habit your eyes wandered over him to detect any knives or guns, and when he stuck out a hand towards you it sent a rush of adrenaline and fear through your body. You involuntarily shrunk inwards a bit as if expecting a sudden sharp pain in your abdomen, and from the corner of your eyes you could see Cas suddenly setting a step forward, but you didn’t get stabbed. Instead, the hand still hovered in the air. You quickly stood up straight again and shook his hand – but the moment he got a hold of your hand he pulled you in a hug, his other hand giving your back three loud pats. When he let go there was a smile on his face.   
“Welcome to the family.” 

 

Your appearance as griffin always startled Castiel, this time being no exception. With his eyes he took in your form, your every movement, your eyes - lingering on your eyes. Yet as always he kept silent, just being the observer from a distance. When you had changed back a small smile had graced your face but you had kept your hands in your pockets, a sign he had recognised as you being uncomfortable. When Bobby walked towards you he saw the fear growing in your eyes and your shoulders pull up in defence. His body reacted before he could think about it and only when he had taken a step forward he could stop himself. Dean trusted him. Sam trusted him. You weren’t in danger.   
But what if you were?  
A sudden flash of imagination struck his mind and he saw you die in all possible ways. He clenched his fists, trying to make it stop.   
You shook Bobby’s hand, but when he pulled her in a hug Castiel had almost lunged at him. It took him all of his self-control to stay where he was.   
Dean walked over to you and gave you a playful hit on the shoulder as well, and he felt himself relax. It was alright. You were alright. He had been foolish.   
It was time for him to marvel at the acceptance, as you were now recognised as a family member by all other members of that family. He could see you realised this as well as your smile had grown genuine and your soul had started to emit a comfortable warmth, the latter only felt by him.   
Sam had now pulled you in a hug and slightly lifted you from the ground, but you didn’t protest and laughed loudly, your arms keeping a strong hold of him. A sudden sting hit Castiel’s chest.  
When Sam put you down you turned around, your eyes suddenly fixed on his, and he averted his eyes. Why had he avoided looking in your eyes? There was something stirring in his chest and he couldn’t place it, and it frightened him. He could see you coming towards him, your eyes slightly concerned but your stride full of confidence. He wanted to look at you. He wanted to take in every detail of you, wanted to burn the image of you in his mind. Your hand was gently placed on his arm, a genuine tone of concern lacing your voice.  
“You okay?”   
He couldn’t avoid looking at you anymore so he turned his head, gaze locking with yours.   
“Yes.”   
He pulled his lips up in a small smile, hoping it would reassure you. You wouldn’t have it.   
“You’re a part of the family too, you know?”   
He glanced at the three men behind you, who were nodding to confirm the truth in your statement. Suddenly he felt your arms gently slip around his waist, your head to his chest, and he could hear the smile in your voice.  
“Don’t forget that.”  
His arms found their way around your shoulders and he returned the hug without as much as to think about it. From his peripheral vision he could see the grins on the faces of the brothers as they came closer, and soon two more pairs of arms closed around you and him. He could feel your chest shake when you giggled and he felt the radiation your soul growing even warmer and brighter, warming his soul in the process. He wanted to be like this forever, to feel the essence of your being so close to his, to bathe in your glow. So he just kept holding you tight, treasuring this moment with everyone who had started to care so greatly for.


	8. Slight Insomnia and Lots of Embarrassment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Pushing yourself in an upright position you glanced over the back of the couch._   
>  _"You... wished me to be here.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy!  
> <3

This sofa was definitely more comfortable than any of those in the hotels or motels you had stayed in before, so this was a relief to your body. You had forgotten how it was to sleep in a proper bed as you had been insisting on sleeping on the couch all the time. Bobby had been reluctant, but you had eventually convinced him that a couch was okay for you, which it was - though you did long for a soft mattress with warm blankets and fluffy pillows. It had been a while since you had had that luxury, but you feared that, when you slept in a proper bed for once, you wouldn’t want to go back to the couch anymore. The problem was that there were barely any motels with three-person chambers – and four beds, which was the next option in line, would simply be too expensive. 

But you reminded yourself of the fact that you didn't have anything to complain about. A couple of months ago you had been sleeping in trees and on improvised beds of moss if you couldn't find a hotel or some other kind of place to stay. The thought of sleeping in your griffin form had crossed your mind a couple of times, but you had discarded it. It would only increase the risk of being seen, which was especially dangerous when you were sleeping. Although you liked dozing off under the stars, you didn’t like to be vulnerable. 

You rolled on your other side to face the back of the sofa, almost touching it with your nose. Lately, there were times when you fell asleep quite quickly after you had installed yourself, but most of the time, like tonight, something forced you to stay awake for an hour or so. It was a nasty, self-evolving habit that had slowly crept in your routine of sleeping. It was sort of a defense mechanism your body had developed. Yes, it had saved your life a couple of times when you had been attacked at night, but you definitely hated it: if you heard any noise that didn't fit the scenery, you would wake. 

You wondered if those groups that had specifically been set up to kill or capture you were still out there. And if so, where would they be? Would they still be looking for you? Would there be any chance they would find you?  
A weird feeling of fear mixed with dread made the hairs in your neck stand up straight. What if they did actually find you? Sure you would be able to escape like before, as long as their tricks hadn’t gotten worse since the last time you met them. But what if they saw Dean, or Sam, or Cas? Would they mark them as targets as well?  
Dean and Sam had enough enemies to worry about already, and your heart would break if anything happened to your co-winged friend.  
Those questions were familiar to you for they were one of the main topics in your head every night. 

When you thought of Castiel, however, a soothing feeling enclosed your heart and shooed away the tension that had made you strain your neck and shoulders. Small butterflies, restrained by your mind but certainly there, made your stomach tingle.  
You tried to ignore them but of course it was hard, partly because you _wanted_ to feel those feelings for him. Who doesn't want to be in love? Or better said, who doesn't want to love, and be loved in return? You wished he was here, so he could just stay with you until you fell asleep or something. He needn't say anything, just being in the same room would be comforting and sufficient enough. 

A soft swoosh of wings and a barely noticeable switch in the airflow was all you needed to know he had actually showed up. Pushing yourself in an upright position you glanced over the back of the couch.  
“You... wished me to be here.”  
He made it almost sound like a question. It made the corners of your lips pull up in a warm, yet slightly tired smile. Then you noticed the awkwardness of the situation: you had wished for him to be here, with you, in the middle of the night, without anyone else in the room - just because you felt a bit lonely and bored. 

You wanted to facepalm yourself, blaming yourself for distracting him from whatever he had been doing, but how could you have known he would actually show up?  
A Few moments passed until you finally formed some sort of a reply.  
“Yeah, uhm, I can't really fall asleep. There's... there are just too many things on my mind. It'd be nice to have someone to talk to, if you aren't too busy? I Imagine you are busy, I mean, of course you are...”  
Your failed attempt to produce a concrete sentence filled you with an awkward lump in your throat. He just watched you, confusion on his face and in his bright blue eyes. The deepest blue – the most beautiful blue one could possibly imagine.  
You noticed you had been staring and holding your breath at the same time so you quickly averted your eyes and forced yourself to breathe.  
“I'll stay with you, if you wish for me to. What would you like to talk about?”  
His low voice resonated through the room and through your ears. Oh that voice, that sweet, sweet voice, what it could do to you...  
You quickly pushed that dangerous thought away as he sat down next to you on the couch.  
“I don't know really, just, things. Tell me about you for instance.”  
You made it sound like a polite request rather than some sort of command as you didn't want to sound bossy or pushy. 

He looked at the floorboards under his feet, his eyes darting from left to right as if he was scanning the ground for stories. As he tried to find the words he parted his lips slightly, closing them once and then opening his mouth again. You felt the urge to kiss those lips again - oh how soft they had felt against yours - but you tried with all your might to restrain yourself and instead directed your attention to the folds in his trench coat, to his posture, to his hair.  
That didn't really help either.  
But then he began to talk. He told you about his brothers, the funniest one, Uriel, and laughed at some good memories. His mellow and deep laugh echoed through the dark livingroom and made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy, tearing you apart from the inside. You could feel your heart contract, a warm feeling flooding through you as you were once again reminded of how hard you had fallen for him. You listened to more of his stories, never getting enough of the syllables coming out of his mouth. You watched his bright eyes, the movements of his lips...

-

You felt a hand on your forehead. What... - Wait...  
You had difficulty with waking up, probably because of that lovely, comforting smell that contributed to the feeling of safety. You lifted your head from the surprisingly comfortable shoulder it had been leaning on and you looked at whose it was - Castiel's.  
“I-I'm sorry, did I fall asleep? I’m sorry.. that was.. that was really rude of me – not that your stories aren’t interesting! I love hearing about your brothers and stuff, it’s just... Wow. I’m really sorry.” Thinking you sounded like a fool you put one of your hands over your face, which was completely red of embarrassment now.  
“Are you okay? You feel warm...”  
His hand was cool to the touch, but it only made your face grow even warmer.  
“Yeah yeah, I'm fine, I'm okay.”  
You managed to smile but now he mentioned it, you felt absolutely _awful_. You chuckled slightly to reassure him but your head was heavy, your body felt weak. “Wait a moment, I'll be right back.”  
You stood up from the couch and slowly walked to the kitchen, ignoring the dizzy feeling between your eyes and under your skull. You leaned against the doorframe and took a second to try to stop the room from spinning. 

“Wait.” His gruff voice from behind you almost commanded you, but softly. Within moments he was next to you, pressing two cool fingers against your forehead. You could almost feel the white light streaming through your body and the relief that came with it. The throbbing sensation was gone now, and when you opened your eyes you noticed the room had stopped twisting in all possible directions. You also noticed how close he was. A blush crept on your cheeks so you decided to distract yourself.  
“How did you do that?”  
He withdrew his fingers and let his hand fall back to his side.  
“It is one of my abilities.”  
“You can cure people?”  
“Yes.”  
You smiled, astonished. You had heard of him raising Dean from Perdition, seen (well sort of seen) him do the thingy with the vampire when he saved you, and you had started to realise that he could teleport as well after the shopping trip – although you should have realised much earlier, how else would he just appear and disappear all the time? - but you had never seen him heal anyone. What else was there that he could do?  
“Unbelievable. Amazing, really. It’s... wow. That’s really cool. ”  
A poet at work. You wanted to smash your head against a wall.  
He looked at you, a bit puzzled because of your astonishment and sudden compliments.  
“Is there more you are capable of doing?”  
You had a questioning look in your eyes, your head slightly tucked to the side, desperately trying to ignore how close his body was to yours.  
“I also possess a few forms of telepathy.” 

Wait  
He could _read peoples thoughts_

“S-s o you can read... minds?”  
You had to be sure. He could have been reading your mind all this time. He could have heard all the things you had been thinking about him. He could have heard how you felt about him. 

“Yes.”

Your heart dropped to the core of the earth, a sudden rush of warmth washing over you. Your head could probably be compared to a tomato at this point and you could feel your stomach twist violently.

“So... have you... read mine?” 

Was that a small smile on his face?  
Another violent twist in your stomach. 

“Yes and no. Sometimes it was like... you shouted your thoughts at me and I couldn't help but to hear them. When you don’t, I do not try to read them. I do not want to infringe your privacy.”  
Did he know? If he did, did he feel the same? What if he didn’t? What if he would start to avoid you when he found out? You wouldn’t blame him. 

You had averted your eyes when he had told you about you yelling your thoughts to him, but the floor was not interesting enough to keep staring at. Almost too scared to look him in the eye, you did it anyway. 

He knew.  
He _definitely_ knew.


	9. Worlds Collapsing, Stars Colliding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Oh god, you could almost hear Dean and Sam’s jokes in advance._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the smut for all you sinners 8D

Oh, he _definitely_ knew.  
You could see it in his eyes. 

You couldn’t help but notice how close he was to you, to your body that was still leaning against the wall near the doorpost - leaving you no escape. You could feel your skin tingle as goosebumps rippled over you. You hadn’t made eye contact since he started talking about how you had mentally screamed your thoughts at him, but now, the air filled with electricity, you couldn’t help but glance back up at him. 

His blue eyes locked onto yours. 

The butterflies in your stomach went wild, clawing at your insides but in a way _oh so sweet_.  
You wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to feel the warmth of his body against yours. Oh god you really needed to stop thinking, he could probably hear all of it - you were pretty sure you were mentally screaming at him right now. But you just couldn’t look away. What was he thinking? Why wasn’t he saying anything?  
Then you noticed his pupils were dilated.  
He parted his lips slightly, distracting your gaze for a second. Your mind ran wild, those eyes and those lips drove you crazy, making it difficult for you to try and control your thoughts.  
Suddenly he took a small step forward, your bodies now less than an inch apart, and slowly rose a hand – but he seemed to hesitate. You gently rose your hand as well and wrapped your fingers around his, the touch sending a spark down your spine. It was all he needed. 

His lips pressed against yours, his body firmly but somehow gently trapping you against the wall. His hand snuck around your waist and held you against him while you kissed him back, your stomach twisting in all the right ways. You pressed yourself against him, needing all the contact he could give you. You could smell him, taste him, feel him, and you could have seen the tiny smile on his lips if you had opened your eyes. Your fingers ran through his dark hair and over his cheek, feeling the familiar shapes of the face that you had longed to touch for so long.  
You had to break the kiss so your lungs could do their job once again, giving you the time to realise what had just happened. Your heart threatened you explode and your knees were weak, but you loved it. He stared into your eyes and you glanced upwards for a second, reminding him of the fact that Sam, Dean, and Bobby were on the floor above the two of you. The corners of his mouth pulled up in a sly grin and you noticed you weren’t at Bobby’s anymore, making you copy his smile before placing your lips against his again.  
You certainly weren’t tired anymore. 

You both kicked off your shoes, he let his trench coat fall to the ground and you took off your shirt - you noticed it was the one you had bought on the shopping trip with him, and your smile grew. He threw his black suit jacket to the side, which was surprisingly sexy, so you pulled at his tie until his chest hit yours and his lips were close enough again for you to kiss them.  
Your hands unbuttoned his shirt and with a bit of help from him you took it off, still not breaking the kiss. Oh how you had longed for this.

He suddenly slid an arm around your shoulders and under your knees, pulling you up (you couldn’t suppress a small shriek of surprise) to gently lay you on the bed, one hand still on your back to keep you from hitting the mattress too hard. He leaned on his hands which were placed above your shoulders, his knees beside your thighs. A blush crept on your cheeks as his eyes scanned every part of you. You weren't really confident about yourself nor your body, and this was the first time you actually showed it to someone - without clothes that is. After his short glance-over he met your gaze again, and all you saw was admiration. Your heart contracted and a warm feeling coursed through your veins, pooling in your abdomen – only to be doubled when his lips touched your neck.  
You wrapped your arms around him to pull him closer to you, your back arching until you could feel your chest against his. You could feel his toned body, the muscles moving against your skin as he moved an arm to wrap around your waist. 

His lips slowly moved over your neck to your jaw, softly brushing over your skin. A soft whimper escaped your lips and you were surprised – but extremely aroused – when he let out a sound between a moan and a growl in response. The heat in your body built up with every kiss he planted, in your neck, going lower and lower, a kiss on the base of your throat, your collarbone -  
You let go of him, catching him by surprise as you pushed him over on his back. A playful chuckle escaped your lips when you saw the look in his eyes, and your butterflies went wild once again when a beaming smile formed on his face.  
You tried pulling off your pants, and just as you threw it away you felt a strong hand playfully pulling you sideways - but you were quick enough to turn the tables on him. In your fall you turned in such a way that you were now lying on top of him, stomach to stomach, your legs on either side of his hips. 

You let your hands slide over his chest as you bent forward, placing kisses in his neck. Air left his lips as he closed his eyes, the soundless moan amplifying your arousal. You realised how much you wanted him, how much you loved him, and how much you wanted to pleasure him. These thoughts, however, had distracted you long enough for him to grab your waist, hold you against him, and flip you on your back again. It reminded you of a playful fight for dominance, and you were going to show him what you were capable of. A small smirk graced your features.  
He detached your bra and you carelessly threw it away as he started a trail of kisses, starting from where he had been interrupted before – your collarbone. You moaned softly as he moved down, over one of your breasts and nipples, to your belly. He leaned on one arm as he let his other hand explore every hill and every valley that his mouth hadn’t touched yet, causing you to moan louder. You could hear and feel his gruff moan against your skin, his hot breath not even close to your own temperature. He stopped and instead kissed you passionately again, bucking his hips against yours. You arched your back, grinding yourself against him, and you could feel his bulge through his pants.  
Another wave of warmth flowed through you and the butterflies turned vicious. You desperately tried to unbutton and push down his pants, and with a low chuckle he kicked it off. 

You pushed him away from you until he sat straight up and you followed him closely, trying to keep as little distance between your bodies as possible. You needed him, **_now_** , and he seemed to feel the same as he took off his boxers, giving you the time to get rid of the last piece of your own underwear. He lifted you so you could wrap your legs around him and you did, letting him slowly lower you until you could feel his member against your entrance. You looked him in his eyes and all you saw was love, admiration, and lust.  
Suddenly you felt a stinging pain soon followed by immense pleasure as he entered you, a loud moan escaping your lungs as it sank deeper, filling you almost entirely.  
He let out a moan as well, burying his face in your neck. You gave his mouth as much access to your skin as possible by cocking your head to the side. He slowly began to thrust in and out of you, his own moans merging with yours in the dark hotel room. 

He pushed you down on the bed sheets again, picking up his speed. You came in a rhythm that brought you closer to the edge with every thrust that hit harder and deeper. Your lungs never seemed to get enough air before he pumped his member back in again and you clung to him, your fingers digging in his back and shoulder as you panted and groaned out of pure pleasure.  
He kissed you fiercely, barely giving you time to breathe but you didn’t need it - you were out of this reality and in a whole new one, where he and you were the only things that existed.  
Your bodies were locked together, hands exploring, mouths touching. You had your legs wrapped around him, urging him to go even deeper – and so he did. He thrust even faster and you could feel every inch slide in and out again and again.  
Suddenly the world collapsed around you as if stars were colliding, planets exploding, sceneries shattering – all of your senses being overstimulated at the same time.

He slid out of you and carelessly let himself fall next to you on the bed, both of you still panting heavily from the just experienced intensity. After catching your breath you moved closer to him and he took you in his arms, your head on his bare chest. He leaned over a bit, giving a kiss on the top of your head, and held his face in your hair to breathe in the smell of it. You felt peaceful, serenity filling every fibre of your being as you lie in this man’s embrace. Your mind was still blurry, and with a soft chuckle you remembered the sentence ‘getting your brains fucked out ’ – it was an apt description. 

But after a while, the ability to think, and to worry, came back. You had just had sex with an angel. Not the ‘cheesy pickup line’ kind, but the ‘actual-freaking-angel-of-the-Lord’ kind. This was probably one of the worst sins he could have possibly picked, but he hadn’t shown any signs of remorse – not yet anyways. Was he going to be punished for this? Had you made him commit a crime against his own race?  
Castiel seemed to notice your sudden shift of mood and softly asked what was on your mind, his hand playing with your hair.  
“Will... will anything happen to you? Because of, you know... because of tonight?”  
You couldn’t get your voice much louder than a whisper, but he was close enough to hear it.  
“I don’t mind.”  
You glanced up at him. He hadn’t really given you a concrete answer, but the look in his eyes was serious.  
“I do.”  
A small smile formed on his lips and he pulled you in a strong and comforting hug, his low voice resonated through you when he spoke.  
“For you I would gladly Fall, if that were to be my punishment.” 

Your eyes grew wider. He would... He would become _human_ for you. He would leave everything that he loved behind, he would abandon his father and his brothers. This was stronger than a confession of love and you felt an intense feeling of happiness and comfort spread through you, your heart skipping beats. You loved him. You loved everything about him, every molecule in his body, every corner of his soul. 

Oh god, you could almost hear Dean and Sam’s jokes in advance.


	10. Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _After a few awkward seconds the phone was answered, yet the gruff voice that spoke wasn’t who he had expected._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a short filler chapter :S  
> How much of a plot has this story anyway?

Sam, still a bit drowsy, walked down the stairs, through the hallway and to the bathroom. The whole house was silent, everyone was still asleep. The sun hadn’t yet risen, but the sky showed the light blue glow of the morning that was soon to emerge. It felt good to be at Bobby’s, it reminded him of the old days. Nostalgia washed over him and a small sigh left his lips, but a smile soon crept on his face. He liked the present. If all the shit that had happened in the meantime had caused him to be here, with Bobby and Dean still alive and with you having joined them, then it was okay. It had been for the best. 

He followed through his daily routine until Dean came joining him. They made themselves some breakfast, not noticing you weren’t present until they entered the living room.  
“Hey, where’s ____?”  
Sam looked at the empty sofa, his brow furrowed in slight confusion. Dean slid his mobile phone out of his pocket and selected your number, putting the phone against his ear.  
After a few awkward seconds the phone was answered, yet the gruff voice that spoke wasn’t who he had expected.  
“Hello?”  
“Cas?” Dean’s face now expressed befuddlement as well.  
“Yes.”  
“Why are you answering ____’s phone? Where is she?”  
“She is here, but she could not answer. She is sleeping.”  
Dean kept silent for a moment and glanced at Sam.  
“Where is ‘here’, exactly?”  
“In the hotel down the road.”  
“Wait,” Dean shook his head a bit in confusion and disbelief, “She is with you, in a hotel, and she is sleeping?”  
Suddenly something in his head clicked and his eyes grew wide. Sam quickly caught on and had difficulty containing his laughter.  
“Cas, did you two have sex?”  
For a moment it was silent on the other end of the phone, then, some murmuring in the background. Dean recognised your voice.  
_“Who’s that? Wait, can I have it?”_  
Some soft rustling followed, then your voice, but clearer this time.  
“Hello?”  
“Did you have _sex_ with Castiel?”  
Silence.  
“You _did_ , didn’t you!” Dean exclaimed loudly through the phone, a broad smile on his face. You answered a short, “Shut up.” - your voice was definitely filled with embarrassment - and hung up the phone. Deans smile was now plastered to his face and Sam copied it, letting out a burst of laughter.  
“No way! Cas had sex?”  
At the exact moment Sam said that, Bobby entered the living room - his mouth falling open instantly. “With whom?!”  
Dean answered with complacency, oh how he would tease you with this.

You put the phone back on the nightstand and fiercely hoped they wouldn’t make a big deal of it. It was false hope, of course – you knew them well enough to know that this would haunt you for at least a couple of weeks. It was _definitely_ worth it, though. 

You moved a bit closer to Castiel, his arms wrapping around you once more. With your head on his chest you listened to his heartbeat. Knowing he didn’t sleep you figured he hadn’t slept this night either. He had just been holding you the whole time, sharing his warmth and company with you even though you had been fast asleep. Did he even know how much of a romantic he was?  
You suddenly realised this was all thanks to Dean and his set-up, and you let out a frustrated groan. You sure as hell weren’t going to thank him. 

You didn’t want to leave Castiel’s embrace, yet you knew the guys were waiting for you - probably to humiliate you, but waiting nonetheless. And you couldn’t just stay in bed all day, even if you wanted to .  
You hugged him tighter for a second before letting go of him altogether, and he knew that it was time to go. You propped yourself up on one arm and used your free hand to rub the sleep out of your eyes until your vision became clear again. You lazily swung your legs off the bed and got out from under the sheets to grab the pieces of clothing that were scattered around the room. You noticed Cas was watching your every move and you turned away from him, to hide your bright red blush, quickly putting your clothes on. He stood as well, fully naked still, and you couldn’t help but stare. God, he really was gorgeous. He sent you a small smile – was that a blush on his face as well?  
After both of you were done getting fully clothed and you had put your phone back in your pocket again it was time to go back and face the consequences of tonight – eternal humiliation.  
You gave him a tender kiss and laid your hand in his, his fingers wrapping gently around yours. He looked in your eyes for confirmation and you nodded. 

You were back in Bobby’s livingroom, the two brothers grinning their unswerving grins at you.  
“So, how was your ni-“  
“Oh shut up!” You interrupted Dean, a grin and a blush on your face. “That’s none of your business.”  
He laughed as you paraded past him, towards the bathroom.  
“Nice sex-hair by the way!”  
The last few steps to the door were hurried and you locked yourself in, not sure if you wanted to see your face in the mirror. After a few seconds of trying to control the excessive bloodflow to your cheeks you decided it was worth a try, and you turned around to look at the reflective material.  
Dean had been completely right, and even though it looked good on you, it was obvious for everyone that you had had sex last night. Fixing your hair only succeeded after four tries and a couple of annoyed – and embarrassed – groans. Determined to ignore Sam, Dean, and possibly Bobby you opened the door and strode towards the kitchen without as much as glancing over at them from the corner of your eye, your chin held high. 

 

Dean focused on Castiel, partly because you were going to ignore him anyway. He looked at Cas and his sex-hair, his smile unwavering.  
“So, how was your late-night adventure?”  
Cas looked at the ground for a moment and then looked from Dean to Sam to Bobby and back again, his face a shade darker.  
“I- I ... ”  
Multiple expressions flickered over his face, his cheeks visibly reddening.  
“I have to go.”  
And he was gone.  
The boys burst into laughter and Bobby shook his head, grinning like an idiot.  
You entered the living room with a slice of bread between your lips and a filled plate in your hands - you were famished after last night. The floor was really interesting so you stared at it intensively, not avoiding eye contact or anything. 

When Sam walked past you he gave you a brotherly pat on your head, messing up your hair again.  
“Look at our little sis, growing so fast.”  
He chuckled and left for his usual morning jog. Bobby went away as well, to ‘get some shit done’ as he put it. So that left Dean and you.  
He jumped on the other end of the sofa and installed himself in a way that he was facing you, face horrifically similar to a gossip-rabid schoolgirl.  
“So, tell me all about it!”  
You swallowed your last mouthful of bread, put the plate on the table and looked him in his eyes. “Do you actually believe I’m going to tell you about my sex life?”  
“Hell yeah. C’mon, you can tell me! Was he good?”  
“Don’t tell me you gave him tips or anything!”  
Deans smirk grew wider. “Maybe.”  
“Oh my god you are the worst, you know that?”  
“Hey, you need to thank me for setting you two up in the first place!”  
You were silent for a second, pouting at him.  
“I’m not going to thank you.”  
“Not even a tiny thanks?”  
“...”  
“....”  
“.....”  
“Thanks.”


	11. Disaster Strikes In Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"So what now?"_   
>  _"You will have to trust me."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added music notes (♪ ♫ ) for some 'extra' experience :3 Please play this song between the notes:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pgFKc2-OMV8&index=6&list=PL97AB2E4164073FDA  
> Prepare for a long chapter!

After you had finished your breakfast you had ignored Dean's further interrogation and had walked to the kitchen to put your dish in the dishwasher. While washing your hands you watched the water streaming over your fingers and realised you hadn't felt so peaceful and happy in a long time. Maybe it was the dopamine still rushing through you. You had found a new appreciation for life, everything was worth so much more when you had friends to share it with. God, had you really stooped to thinking cheesy things?  
Before you knew it a smile had appeared on your face. You liked this, joking around with the brothers, hunting things, being in a sort-of-relationship(?) with an adorable guy – you really could get used to all of it. What you hadn’t realised, however, what that you had gradually let your guard down more and more. 

Big mistake. 

♪ ♫

A sudden bang made you jump out of surprise, and as you turned around to look in the direction of the noise you heard the yelling of men out for blood. The window at your right shattered into a million pieces as a big rock came crashing through it, sending you to the ground to avoid getting hit. It rained sharp shards and splinters, cutting through your skin – leaving it marked by small streams of red - but this wasn't your main thing to worry about.  
The men came like a wave, flooding the building from every door and window.  
“Dean!”  
You ran into the living room, only to see your friend pointing a gun at those who had taken you two by surprise. They outnumbered him by far, and seemed not to bother being pointed at as they aimed their own guns and weapons at him in return. All of their eyes were now pointed at you.  
“There she is!”  
“Grab her!”  
“Shoot it!”  
“Kill her!”  
You grabbed Deans wrist and ran up the stairs, which was still free of men. A few shots sounded and bullets whistled past your ears, yet you didn’t even flinch. You begged Cas to help you out here, because this could get pretty nasty pretty quickly. 

“What are you doing,” Dean shouted at you, “There’s no way out from here!”  
You didn’t let go of his wrist, afraid that he would stop following you.  
“I know those men, they will have blocked every other escape route there, every possible exit will be guarded.”  
“We could fight our way out!”  
“Dean, there are at least ten of them, all with guns and knives and whatever!”  
You ran into the bedroom and locked the door, after which you barricaded it with everything you could find. Dean joined in and pushed a large bookcase against the door.  
“So what’s your plan, then? Wait for them to follow us up the stairs? They’ll break through this door sooner or later! Why don’t we call Cas?”  
“I tried that,” you tried to keep as calm as possible, “but I think he has got his own problems Upstairs.”  
Dean looked around. “So what now?”  
You looked him in his eyes. “You will have to trust me.”  
He frowned, partly confused and partly offended. “ ’Course I do.”  
You smiled slightly and nodded. “Good. Be as quiet as possible and follow me up the roof.”  
“Wait, what? Why?”  
But you had already opened the window. You grabbed the frame and pulled yourself up until you could place one foot on the windowsill. You glanced down and around, calculating how many men there were. At least twenty. One man for every exit downstairs, just like you predicted.  
The roof tiles felt cold and slippery under your hands, the grey sky felt threatening. As soon as you were on the very top you turned your body to reach out for Dean, who was not accustomed to this kind of exercise, and helped him up.  
They didn’t look up, and the two of you would probably have about two minutes left before they did. You turned back to Dean and tried to keep your voice below a whisper.  
“Quick, text Sam and Bobby that they mustn’t come back here and that we will meet them in the nearest café.”  
“How are we going to get th-“  
“Just text him already!”  
“Alright alright.”  
You watched him get out his mobile phone, his fingers quickly started pressing the buttons.  
“Done. So how are we getting out of here?”  
You sighed in slight humiliation, but answered anyway.  
“On my back.”  
First he looked confused, but then realised what you meant and his eyes grew wide.  
“No. **_No_**. I _really_ don’t like flying!”  
You knew he didn’t, but for now he would just have to cope or you wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation.  
“So you prefer dying, then?” you hissed, trying not to be too loud, “It’s just a short flight, you can close your eyes, nothing will happen. I promise.”  
Well you didn’t know – you had never even carried someone on your back before, let alone an adult male. He growled some unintelligible things but gave a short nod.  
“Okay. Just climb on my back as soon as I’m changed and hold on tight, don’t worry about hurting me.”  
You stood up, as far as standing up is possible on a rooftop, and shuffled back a bit before you changed – quickly grabbing a hold of the tiles with your sharp claws. The roof creaked cautionary and you could only hope the two of you wouldn’t fall through before you were able to ascend. 

You lowered through your knees, making it easier for him to climb on. He tried to keep his face straight as he crawled onto your back, sat down between your wings, and grabbed your neck tightly. You rose again and spread your wings, almost being suffocated by Dean as he strengthened his grip on your neck. With every beat of your wings air would move around and you could feel the pressure building underneath them. It was great to stretch those muscles again, though you couldn’t help but notice the not-so-light guy on your back - but you too would just have to deal with it. You jumped off and ascended, your wings beating forcefully to keep up speed and to gain height. The yelling that came from below made you aware of the fact that they had noticed you, and soon it started raining bullets - well, raining upwards anyway. 

 

You didn’t look down, you kept your face towards the clouds that you were desperately trying to get to. Before you made it into the veil that hid you from sight you felt a stinging pain in your arm, soon followed by another painful shock rushing through your right wing. You felt your balance waver as your wing shortly contorted in pain. You forced your wing to spread again, just in time to keep the two of you from tipping over and falling down. 

♪ ♫

Dean was still holding you with immense strength, god he was strong, and had buried his face in the feathers in the back of your neck. You hoped he wouldn’t look down or panic more than he already was or you would probably choke. Wondering where the nearest café would actually be, you realised that you had to fly under the clouds to search for it. There were too many risks. People could see you if they looked up, take pictures, and the men that had just tried to kill you would be able to follow. But if you didn’t, there was no way you could find Sam and Bobby. Mentally telling yourself to keep calm, you ran through all the options in your head, ignoring the burning sensation that was growing in your arm and wing. 

You could do a quick descend - almost like falling out of the sky - because that would be the fastest, and if luck were to be in your favour you might even avoid anyone seeing you. The problem was that you had never done such a dive with a person on your back, who would probably hate you forever afterwards and puke all over you. It could possibly be deadly if you weren’t able to pull up fast enough. You could be impaled by trees and branches or smash on the concrete with immense speed, maybe even drown if you were unlucky enough to end up in a river or lake.  
You could descend slowly, taking your time to figure out where to go and where to land. You would most definitely be seen and tracked by the group from before, but Dean wouldn’t hate nor throw up – hopefully.  
You could wait for about an hour to wait for the attackers to go give up and go home, but would you endure such a long flight with a guy on your back? Would your wings be able to cope now one of them had been hit? What if they were still there after an hour? Too dangerous, this plan was bound to fail.  
You could keep flying some more miles and then descend, but you would have no idea where you would be or how to find the café nearest to Bobby’s home without a car or a clue which way to go.  
You decided to keep flying anyway, searching for an opening in the clouds to see where you were so you could then decide on what to do - to land or to keep flying.  
After about fifteen minutes your right wing began to sting quite badly, making it impossible to ignore, and exhaustion came faster than you’d thought it would. Suddenly the clouds broke apart beneath you and you could see the green of the forests below. There were no cars but no café either, but you had no choice but to land – or else gravity would take care of it.  
You started descending, trying really hard to ignore the burning sensation of your wounds and the extra weight with the name ‘Dean’ pulling you down. You would definitely have sore muscles after this. 

It felt like ages before you reached the treetops and when you finally touched down you almost collapsed. A hissing voice in the back of your head told you that you had been seen. _Stupid you, how could you ever have thought you would make it down without being seen?_  
You ignored the voice yet couldn’t shake the light panic burning inside of you.  
You laid down so Dean could get off easier. He rolled off your back and almost stumbled. You quickly glanced around, making sure no one was near. Then you remembered your wounds. Being hit in your arm wasn’t too bad, if you turned back to your human self the wound would just morph with you, staying on the exact same spot. A wound on your wings, however, was a different problem all together. If you turned completely human again, the wound didn’t have anything to morph with as you would no longer have wings. This probably meant that you would be unable to treat it, but you didn’t know for sure as you had never been shot in the wing before. As far as you knew, you hadn’t been able to turn human while keeping your wings since you had fully transformed for the first time. Yet you felt like you were still able to turn back – maybe this was an exception?  
You mentally crossed your fingers as you tried to transform.

Thank the gods, it had worked. 

You hadn’t been wearing a low-back shirt before - but now you were, your wings had basically ruined it. It saddened you, though, you had grown fond of the shirt that you had picked with Cas. But for now, you had other things to worry about, such as keeping your shirt from completely falling apart – you quickly crossed your arms over the cloth on your chest. If you hadn’t been bleeding so badly this scene could have made anyone think that you and Dean were shooting some kind of horrible porn or something.  
You inspected the wound on your left arm, luckily the bullet had only grazed your skin - leaving a deep cut nevertheless. That, added to the many little cuts from the glass and the bullet wound in your wing that you still had to inspect, wasn’t really beneficial to your energy level. You could feel the loss of blood slowly becoming more of an issue with every second. You needed to stop the bleeding, and fast.  
You stood up and made a big mistake by folding your wings, your face contorting in pain. You quickly spread the right one again, bending it forwards a bit so you could easily inspect the hole that the bullet had made. The bullet had gone clean through, no shards left in your flesh, which was always a good thing. It made everything so much easier. 

Dean, who had been leaning against a large oak whilst heavily breathing and cursing more than you thought was even possible, now pulled himself together and turned to face you.  
“Your, uhm, wings are still-“  
“I know, I can’t fully change. I have been hit.”  
You didn’t make a big fuss about it, it wasn’t like you had never been hit before.  
“So you can’t…”  
“Nope, I’ll have to walk around like this.”  
You sighed in stress, going with one hand over your face. Why does disaster always strike in peaceful times?  
“We can’t search for the café when you’re like this. Even if we find it, you won’t be able to enter, people will go crazy.”  
“I know, I know.”

You sighed and sat down on the soft moss, trying not to move your arm or wing too much. After taking a strip of cloth from the back of your ruined shirt you carefully wrapped it around your upper arm, tying it with one hand. You tied it quite tightly, trying to minimize the blood flow without completely cutting it off. The piece of cloth immediately soaked and turned a dull red, but you couldn’t care less – the shirt had been ruined already anyway, at least it could still serve some kind of purpose. Your arm would be okay, it wasn’t a very deep wound.  
The other one would be more difficult to put a bandage around, though. And then there were the glass cuts from the exploding window you wouldn’t be able to patch up, although you hoped that there were no splinters left in them. All together you looked like a bloody nightmare, but you guessed it looked worse than it was. The minor cuts would, if clear of class, heal pretty soon.

Even though you remembered having experienced worse, it didn’t really take away the pain you were in right now.  
“How about you? Have you been hit?”  
“No. Can I take a look at the other wound?”  
“Sure.”  
You moved your wing so he would have the best possible angle to look at it. He gently took the tip of the wing in his hand, slowly pulling it towards him. It hurt, of course, but you kept silent for the rest of the time he needed to inspect it, twisting and turning your wing in slightly uncomfortable positions. After a while he let go of your limb.  
“Doesn’t look too bad. Bullet went straight through, no pieces or dirt. It will definitely leave a scar, but I don’t think it will take long to heal.”  
You had figured this out yourself just a couple of minutes ago, but you just nodded and thanked him. He looked around, searching for something with his eyes.  
“Maybe we could search for a road and see if I recognise it. If I do we will probably be able to find Sam and Bobby. You can follow me from the shadows.”  
You smiled and stood up, slowly lifting your arm to test of the bandage would last.  
“Sounds like a plan.”

The two of you found a road pretty quickly, thanks to your keen hearing, and Dean followed it. You wandered in the protection of the trees and their shadows, mostly following Dean by the sound of his footsteps and knocking on tree trunks every once in a while. Every time a car would pass he would fake-sneeze or cough loudly so you could hide behind something, just to make sure you would go unnoticed.  
It wasn’t a densely built area, mostly forest and lonely roads, which meant not many cars passed. Partly you were thankful for that, you wouldn’t be seen easily and you would have plenty of escape routes - but on the other side, what if you and Dean were walking in the complete opposite direction of the café? Not that you didn’t trust Dean’s navigation, it was just that you were losing a lot of energy with every step you took. Normally you would have sought for shelter or built a camp, make a fire to keep you warm. If only you had your backpack...

Suddenly you heard Dean knocking multiple times, was something wrong? You walked towards him.  
“I see the café!”  
He jogged the last few metres towards you. “So what now?”  
You considered the options and weighed the risks carefully.  
“You go get them, I’ll wait behind the café some twenty metres into the forest.”  
He nodded and you nodded back, after which he headed towards the building somewhere in the distance. You would follow him, however more slowly and quietly, but first you needed a tree to lean against. The rind felt rough and uncomfortable, yet it offered the support you needed to stay standing. You weren’t weak and neither did you need to be saved as if you were a damsel in distress, blood loss just made you feel a bit dizzy and your muscles felt sore from the flight.  
You took in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then sighed and started walking, one wing folded and the other partly spread. 

 

What took him so long? You had been standing there for more than seven minutes now, it surely wouldn’t take that long to tell them and take them outside? What if he was overpowered by demons? Fuck, if he was then you and him both were doomed for sure, the only weapons you had were two little daggers you always had with you, one hidden beneath your trousers and shirt, the other attached to the inside of one of your boots. Those wouldn’t have any effect on demons though, you thought grimly. You couldn’t go inside to help them because the demons would probably kill you on the spot or rip off your wings for fun, making it impossible for you to ever fly again. You loved flying, the wind underneath your wings, the world far below you, you felt free and safe above the clouds. Losing the ability to fly would be like... well there was nothing you could really compare it to. You would just feel confined.  
Would you risk getting your wings ripped off, not only causing unbearable, maybe deadly pain but also taking away your means of escaping or the chance to ever fly again? Or would you risk your friends being killed once again? One part of you screamed ‘ _Stop being so fucking selfish!_ ’, another part urged you to do anything to survive, while yet another voice screamed ‘ _They will be brought back to life anyway!_ ’. 

It had been ten minutes now, and your thoughts drove you mad. Why was it always the case that you left your mobile phone on the table in these sorts of situations? 

You needed to take a decision, now. Maybe you could peek inside through a window? Yeah, that was safe enough, just avoid being seen by people or cameras.  
But you needed to do _something_.  
You sneaked out of the cover of the trees and to the building, making sure there were no cameras around, and searched for a window. Not this side. Nope that’s the kitchen. And that’s the toiled. You almost wanted to scream out of frustration – yet you nearly screamed out of terror when a voice behind you suddenly spoke.  
“What are you doing? I thought you were going to wait in the forest!” Dean hissed.  
You let out the breath you were holding, relieved.  
“I thought you might have been overpowered by fucking demons you idiot! Why did it take you ten minutes?!” You hissed back, trying not to raise your voice. He held up a paper bag and you read out loud what it said.  
“Wendy’s, old fashioned hamburgers, quality is our recipe”.  
He pushed it in your hands and you looked at it, then shifted your gaze at Dean and the others who were smiling.  
“We thought you might be hungry.” Bobby nodded with his head to the bag in your hands.  
You tried to utter some words, then shook your head. “You guys are insane.”  
Yet your voice had an undertone of affection. 

When the four of you had taken shelter underneath the tall trees again you opened the bag and offered your fries to the guys, but they declined, saying they had already eaten some before Dean and you arrived, and Dean himself had his own. As you were eating a comfortable silence fell. The feeling of a full stomach really was a great improvement, for the flight had used most of the energy your breakfast had given you.  
“So, who were those guys?”  
Dean asked while brushing the crumbs off his pants.  
“They ehm… I don’t know, but they want me dead, that’s for sure. There were a few men once that saw me change, they were deeply religious and started thinking I was a ‘Servant of the Devil’ or something like that. So they made it their mission to kill me and ‘free the world of evil’. I think they have grown in numbers, the last time I encountered them there were only six or seven, but now there were at least ten in the living room and some more outside.”  
You sighed and buried your face in your hands for a moment, elbows leaning on your knees, a frustrated groan leaving your throat.  
“I should have killed them. It would have saved a lot of trouble. But I’m not very fond of taking lives, you know. I just couldn’t.”  
Silence.  
“So what do we do now?” Bobby looked from Sam to Dean and you. “They have probably stolen all the money that they could find, maybe even burned the place.”  
His face showed his sadness as he thought of this prospect, which in its turn made your heart contract in painful sorrow.  
“I don’t think they did, they are still very religious so they wouldn’t steal your possessions nor burn your house.”  
You desperately hoped that this was true, but you knew they might still be hanging around there somewhere, so returning to see if you were right was not really an option.  
“I think we’ll have to wait until they give up and go, I guess.”  
You pushed some strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear. Everything you owned was still there, the whole backpack with your fake IDs, your money, your thin but comfy sleeping bag, your weapons, the things you needed to ‘survive in the wild’. None of you had come by car, Sam had been jogging and Bobby had probably been chopping wood, judging from the axe he was holding. He must have walked a long way to get here.  
“Let’s wait in the forest,” you suggested, “they will never search the whole of it. I know enough to keep us alive and with the things we have we can probably survive for a whole week if necessary.”  
“How do we know if they have gone?” It was Sam who spoke this time, his face frowning as he thought.  
“We don’t. They might leave tonight, maybe tomorrow, though I don’t think so - if I know them well enough. I’d say they will be gone in two days, but just to be sure let’s wait one day longer.”  
“Okay. All agree?” Dean raised an eyebrow and everybody nodded. “Good. That’s what we’ll do then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the only long chapter in this whole damn story, but I really hope you don't mind :S  
> I'll check it for any mistakes later this week ;3


	12. Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Calm down. Start at the beginning and tell us what happened.”_   
>  _His voice was calm, soothing, and you relaxed a bit._   
>  _“I… I don’t…” You took in a shaky breath, kept it for a few seconds, then continued. “I don’t know…”_

After ten minutes of searching, Sam spotted some trees that had fallen over to form something like a ‘flat X’ a few metres above the forest floor.  
“Maybe this is a good place?”  
You inspected it, looked around, and nodded.  
“It’s a good place, but I don’t see or hear any water...”  
You listened closely again, but still nothing that pointed to the presence of water nearby reached your ears. Bobby probably knew the area better than the rest of you together – at least you hoped he did. It wouldn’t be a problem to stay alive here, though. The weather was quite nice, the ground was dry, and you could always make a trip back to Wendy’s for some food.  
“Do you know if there is any stream or brook nearby?”  
“Well, I’ve not really been in this part of the forest before, but I think there was one on the map a couple of miles north from here.” he sounded pensive, a frown on his face.  
“Maybe we should try that first? We can always come back here as a plan B.” You smiled, trying to keep the mood bright. You hated the fact that you had led these men to Bobby’s house. You hated it even more that Bobby had become a victim of it, and that the circumstances you had caused to develop had forced him to sleep in the woods, because he was unable to go back to his own home - where he had kindly invited you before all of this had started.  
Part of you felt obliged to apologise with every breath you took. You had been careless in the past and this was the result of those actions. Another part pointed its finger at those men, for they were the ones that had decided it would be fun to chase you down wherever you went. But you desperately tried to cling to the part of you that had just accepted it all, that didn’t care who or what had caused it. They were here, you would have to hide, they would go, and that would be the end of it. At least, you hoped it would work out like that. You remembered the times when they had followed you for days, sometimes even weeks when your options were sparse and when they had noticed that you were disadvantaged.  
They knew you had been hit. They knew you would have to land somewhere. What they didn’t know was how far you might come before landing, and you hoped that this was enough to demoralize them. For all they knew, you could be miles away.  
Your ruined shirt was still decent enough on the front to cover you and to keep wearing it, the collar that was still in one piece keeping it on your body. You wore a bra under this, which had shifted a bit awkwardly now that your wings pushed the back of it down, but it hadn’t snapped - which was a relief, you didn’t want to make this more awkward than it already was. You had borrowed Dean's belt and had tied around your waist to make sure your shirt stayed put, causing Dean to pull up his pants occasionally.

It took ten minutes before you could hear the water running softly in the distance. It was a sound that put you at ease a little - it would make the days more bearable. After a few more minutes you could see the stream glistering in the midday sun, an open streak where light shone through the canopy. You couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief.  
“Great! So if we could find a good shelter not too far from here then we’re good.”  
Your smile was genuine this time, and the others gladly copied it. 

 

Sam silently admired your perseverance and determination; you would do all you could to make this work out. You weren’t bossy nor demanding, you just knew what to do and used that knowledge to help everyone survive. With a determined pace you went on a quest to find a good place to take shelter, and a chuckle escaped from Sam’s lips. If he hadn’t had this brotherly feeling for you, you would have been the kind of girl he would fancy. He shook his head as he watched you go, worried that you were hiding the pain the wounds were causing. Remembering his duty he looked around and searched the area a bit, until a content shout from his brother made him jog back to the little stream.  
“Hey. Found anything?”  
“Hell yeah!”  
The three others followed Dean to a few big stones, surrounded by gravel and smaller stones on a mossy ground. From here Sam could still hear the water, which he guessed was a good sign.  
“This is a great place!” You exclaimed happily, looking around a bit with your hands firmly placed on your hips.  
“We could make a great shelter of this. We could push the tips of those two rocks together without much effort, the same thing with those two behind them - although those will probably be harder to move…”  
Sam noticed your mind had started to wander, your train of thoughts visible on your face as you walked around, examining and calculating.  
“Dean, help me here.”  
Dean pushed against the other one as Sam pushed his, a bang announcing the contact. Bobby and you were trying the same thing with the other two rocks, and even though you weren’t normally weak, your wounds weren’t really helping. Dean already came to help you and Sam took his place next to Bobby.  
“Okay, at three. One… two… three!”  
The large stone started slanting under the combined force, and at last a loud thud announced the last part of that plan had worked. The four of you stepped back to get a better view of your new temporary residence. It already looked somewhat like a camping tent, just large enough for four to sleep under. Sam checked if the stones wouldn’t tip, to make sure no one would be crushed, and let out a content hum when the rocks wouldn’t move an inch.  
You would probably be laying side to side for all of you to be able to fit, but he guessed that was a good thing - the nights would probably get cold and in this way they would be able to share their warmth.  
“Looks great! So what now?” Sam shifted his gaze from the stones back to you.  
“Let’s get the gravel and other stones out of there, it wouldn’t be very comfortable to sleep on.”  
You bent through your knees and started sweeping away the stones at the opening, but almost immediately felt the stinging pain of your protesting arm. You folded it against you, your hand placed on your chest, but kept brushing away the gravel with the other hand. Dean noticed your limitation and gently pulled you up.  
“Let me do this, you need to rest your arm for a bit.”  
You knew you couldn’t argue about something like this with him, so you just nodded and sat down on a big rock a couple of metres away. 

While stretching your wings a bit you watched them do the work. It irked you that you weren’t able to help – you could have, if it hadn’t been for those stupid holes in your flesh. You were no brittle pink princess covered in glitters and goodness, you were a _hunter_ damn it.  
Letting out a sigh, you accepted that you had to take care of yourself, you needed to give your wounds the chance to heal rather than make it worse because of your arrogance and childish pride. 

You rested your forearm on your lap and let your gaze wander over your surroundings. There was water nearby but no roads, no people, and little to no chance to be found. Places like these were pretty difficult to find – though it depended on the country – and your younger self would have praised yourself lucky. With Sam and Dean, not only your residencies became better, but also your mental health. They had given you an enormous boost of confidence by taking you into their team – it meant they trusted their lives with you. They really were like a family to you, and you were eternally grateful for that. Sam and Dean’s banter often caused you to burst out in laughter, their jestful squabbles extracting chuckles from your throat. Your heart warmed for these guys, and you did everything you could to assist them: you would to their research if they were busy, bring them a couple of beers when they needed it, even run some grocery errands if they were too lazy to do it themselves. It was your way of silently repaying them.  
“Done!” Dean exclaimed contently and stood up, clapping the dust off his hands. A smile brightened up your face as you stood up and walked over to the three of them.  
“Great! Let’s search for some soft moss to keep the warmth inside and make it a bit more comfy.” 

 

“I must say, it doesn’t look bad.”  
“Yeah, for a shelter in the woods.” Dean replied to his brother, making all of you grin.  
“I could gather some wood for a fire?” Bobby suggested, and Sam decided to go with him. You carefully crawled inside the shelter, making sure your wings didn’t slam into anything, and filled up the last holes with the gathered moss. The soft greens adjusted easily under your fingers, slightly tickling the palm of your hand.  
From the outside you covered the slots between the rocks with twigs, then leaves and then dirt, to keep some of the wind outside and to insulate your temporary residence some more. Both the back and the front of the shelter were still open but you kept it that way, like this it felt as if there was one escape route more – but you wondered if keeping watch would be necessary. You would surely feel safer, but it also meant you would have to sacrifice a part of your sleep which you needed to properly heal. As if Dean was reading your mind he spoke, his voice light but his eyes serious.  
“Should we keep watch in turns tonight?”  
You considered both options again but then nodded.  
“Yeah, I think that’s the safest.”

 

The sun had left the skies early and you knew winter was coming, the slight nip in the air announcing it. There was no use in making a fire now, the clouds had turned a threatening shade of grey and the wind had gathered strength. Dean and Bobby created a mini-shelter for the wood and the leftover moss, so it would be dry and ready to use tomorrow - damp wood would only smoke, not burn, therefore making it useless and dangerous.  
While the blue above the treetops slowly grew black, Bobby told you about his life and his connection to the Winchesters, Sam and Dean occasionally interrupting with snarky but amicable remarks. With your lips pulled up in a smile you listened closely, spending the rest of the evening swapping stories. 

Dean didn’t really like sleeping on the ground, you noticed, as he was rambling about those damned insects everywhere. You mocked him by letting out a dramatic sigh, the back of your hand against your forehead, your eyes dramatically depicting a sorrowful stare.  
“Oh no, not _insects_ , everything but that!”  
You sent him a wide grin as he glared at you, obviously trying to hold back a smile.  
“Hey, Sam agrees with me! Right, Sam?”  
“Yeah, bugs are scary.” Sam copied your dramatic sigh and the two of you were unable to keep back a short laugh. Dean settled on the moss and mumbled some intelligible things, his face turned away from you and Sam, but you could tell he was grinning. 

You hadn’t been too excited about your position in the tent, but guessed there was none more convenient. By sleeping at the entrance you could keep your right wing unfolded without hitting the others left of you, and they wouldn’t be able to hurt your wing by accident. Your other wing functioned as a sort of blanket for them, and in exchange Bobby had given you his coat now that you didn’t have anything else but the clothes you were wearing to keep warm.  
Suddenly you felt completely exhausted, this day had taken away almost all of your energy and your wounds were still demanding more. Knowing that Sam was keeping watch you closed your eyes and almost immediately fell asleep, deeper than you usually would have allowed yourself to. In some weird way you didn’t really have control, and a slight feeling of not being yourself silently settled in the back of your mind. Sleep took over before you could think about it, and you stepped into the darkness of oblivion.

 

You blinked a few times, straining your pupils and squinting your eyes as the light was too bright at first. Light? - It should still be dark. You pushed yourself in a sitting position and rubbed the sleep from the corners of your eyes. The familiar weight and muscles of your wings were still there, just like the soft moss beneath you and the pressing and burning sensation around your wounds. It should have faded slightly overnight, but it seemed to only have worsened.  
With your eyes finally working like they should you climbed out of the stone tent, your limbs slightly protesting.  
“Morning,____!” Sam walked towards you. “Did you sleep well?”  
Still a bit drowsy, you nodded. “How long has it been light already?”  
You leaned against the rocks for support, the world slightly spinning.  
“About an hour or so,” Sam replied, face showing slight confusion and worry. “Hey, is everything alright?”  
“An hour?!” you cried out, your eyes suddenly wide open. “I've been asleep this whole time?”  
Impossible, were habits lost _that_ easily? Normally you were awake when the sun hadn’t even appeared at the horizon yet, usually making Sam and Dean some breakfast or doing some research, depending on the situation.  
“But what about my shift for keeping watch?”  
“We let you sleep, you looked exhausted and those wounds need to heal.” Sam smiled apologetically. “And besides, you make a great blanket.” He chuckled and you couldn't help but grin, though you were still a bit unsure on your feet.  
“Thanks.” 

You took a little longer to find your balance before walking over to one of the stones with a flattened surface, sitting down next to it.  
“Let’s count what we have,” you suggested. You lay your two little daggers on the ‘table’ and searched your pockets, but they were empty save one hair elastic. Dean had five dollars and the Colt he had used to point at the attackers yesterday, while Bobby himself had an axe and some rope. Sam had his IPod and a bottle.  
“Could be worse,” You stated, “with those two dollars we can buy some food at Wendy’s. It’s a long walk, but it takes less energy than hunting.”  
“And if all our money is used? We’ll need to hunt sooner or later,” Bobby said, nodding at the gun. “How many bullets have we got?”  
“I don’t think we should use the gun,” Sam replied, “They can probably hear the shots.”  
It was silent for a moment, your irritation towards yourself emerging again. You quickly let go of it before it turned into hate, you couldn’t let your emotions cloud your mind.  
“I can hunt as... you know. That way we don’t need a gun.”  
“But your wounds-“ You interrupted Sam by shaking your head.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll manage.” 

Bobby started a fire using your knives and some natural tinder, the warmth was comforting and the trees looked less threatening in the soft yellow glow of the flames. It wasn't really something you would do, just sit by the fire and waste time, unless you were cold or exhausted. But you hadn't quite felt like yourself anymore since last night - you had become slower and more inactive, your muscles seemed to protest more than necessary. It must be the wounds, you guessed, as they took more energy than you had to offer. Maybe you should just lie down and sleep some more, but first you should take care of that bandage, maybe check on your smaller cuts as well.  
You walked to the creek and sat down beside it, taking the temperature with your fingers – cold, no more than five degrees Celsius. You untied the bandage and held it in the moving water for a few seconds, looking at the small stripes of red being carried away and dissolved. As soon as it was clean you twisted and wrenched it, after which you used it to gently wipe the dried blood from your arms, careful not to reopen the partly healed cuts. You took in a hissy breath as the cold water made contact with the larger, still burning wound – it didn’t seem to have healed even slightly. You looked over your shoulder at your wing, feathers stained a reddish brown, and concluded the same thing. You guessed they were too complicated to heal so soon, thought you remembered other bullet wounds healing faster. After removing all the dried up liquid, cleaning your bandage and fastening it again, you returned to sit by the fire.

A comfortable silence fell as your mouths were filled with Wendy’s goodness. Hamburgers weren't great as breakfast but surely better than nothing. It was funny to see how Dean actually enjoyed it and how Sam and Bobby were absolutely disgusted by it, which they unknowingly showed on their faces. You noticed the empty feeling in your heart and recognised it. You really missed Cas, but he had his own things to take care of and you weren’t going to keep him from that. It was nice to have the Winchester’s company, including Bobby’s, and now you had them you wondered how you had ever been able to survive without. You wondered if this made you dependent, wanting company more often than not. They were already a part of your weakness, which you had realised quite a while ago, because if any of them would get hurt you would blame it on yourself for not being able to prevent it. If anyone of them would die, you feared your heart might never recover. You pushed those thoughts away.  
After the food you felt a heaviness settle on your eyelids, your shoulders starting to slack - so you asked if it would be okay for you to sleep some more.  
“Yeah, sure. I’ll keep watch.” Sam smiled and the others nodded too, so you returned their smiles and crawled inside the tent. You lay down on your belly with your wounded arm and wing stretched, the other arm under you and your left wing partially covering your back and side. Once again the black took over and your thoughts were lost in emptiness. 

You awoke just before dusk and quickly made yourself ready for the hunt. You tied your hair together, grabbed your daggers and made sure the bandage around your arm would stay put.  
“Okay, I’ll be back as soon as possible!”  
You waved shortly and silently ran away into the forest, using your wings to keep your feet from hitting the ground to loudly. You loved this part of the hunt the most. You ran and ran without making any sound, free to go wherever you want, faster than anyone else. You saw a deer but you didn’t follow it - you didn’t need so much meat, it was difficult to kill in human form, and even if you succeeded it would be a pain in the ass to get it back to camp.  
You stopped for a moment, just listening to the sounds around you.  
The distant sound of quails sent a happy expression to your face as you realised you might actually succeed and have a decent dinner tonight, so you sneaked closer as silently as possible. After a while you saw their feathers through the trees and your fingers wrapped around your small daggers as every footfall brought you closer to the birds. In two quick movements you threw them - one missed but one hit target. The birds ascended with flapping wings and loud shrieks, but you were faster and quickly jumped, beating your wings once, making it possible to grab one out of the air. You snapped their necks, a quick death within seconds. Letting the others escape (two were enough for today) you put both your daggers back on their usual places and gently picked up your catch. Even though they were as dead as could be, you kind of kept treating them respectfully, not swinging them around or squashing them in your grip. While walking back to camp you felt the exhaustion take over, again. Letting out a frustrated groan you kept walking with a steady pace until you could see the glow in the distance. 

About half an hour later you returned.  
“Well that was quick,” Dean said while looking from your face to the birds and back, his voice gave away that he was impressed.  
“I was lucky.”  
“Quails.” Sam pouted his lip slightly in approval and respect while nodding his head once.  
“I did the hunting, now it’s up to you to clean them.”  
A big grin pulled on your lips as you handed Dean the birds and Sam your daggers, a disgusted look on their faces. Bobby snickered, shaking his head slightly out of amusement.  
“I’ll leave that to the boys, I’ll go and get some more wood.”  
Dean and Sam glanced at each other but nodded and accepted the task, although reluctantly.  
“Good. I’m going to clean myself in the brook, so if anyone of you dares to come near I’ll make sure your death is slow and painful.” Your smile and voice were sweet, _too_ sweet, and the boys grinned as a shiver went down their spines. They nodded and turned their attention back at the birds again.  
“So how do we do this…” It wasn’t much of a question directed at Sam, but more at himself. Dean held up the bird at some distance away from him and examined it, as if he would find the answer there.  
“I guess we have to start feather plucking first.” Sam took one of the quails from Dean and exchanged it for a knife.  
“Great.” 

 

You sat down beside the water once more, taking your off your shoes and socks and carefully placing them on a dry rock. You rolled up the legs of your jeans and slid your feet in the cold stream, closing your eyes for a few seconds. With your hands cupped you let water flow over your legs, rubbing them slightly. You were already longing for a shower, but it would be at least one or two days before that would be an option again. Stupid wounds. Stupid you. You shook your head and rolled the legs of your pants down again, after which you washed your arms. You should really stop thinking negative thoughts; it wouldn’t help, it would only make you grumpy. You stood up for a moment, putting on your socks and shoes before you kneeling down to wash your face.  
Before your hands disturbed the still water of the small puddle next to the stream you looked at your reflection. You saw your facial features, surrounded by strands of hair that had escaped from your ponytail, and suddenly you saw Castiel’s face next to yours.  
“Castiel!” You exclaimed happily and turned your head around, only to see trees and emptiness. The silence felt more pressing now, the shadows of the trees more threatening. Confused, you turned to glance at your reflection again - but where Castiel’s face had been mere seconds ago was now the face of your dad. A loud shriek erupted from your throat as you fell backwards on the moss. Your eyes were wide and your breathing slightly faster, your heart having picked up its pace.  
What was happening?  
You quickly stood up and brushed off your bum, not daring to look at the water again.  
_I see you_  
The voice sounded directly in your ear and you stumbled to the side, hitting a tree and looking around in sheer terror. No one was there.  
_I’m right behind you_  
Your heart skipped a beat as fear struck and you started running back to the camp, almost stumbling multiple times because of your recklessness and sudden haste. You looked back, seeing nothing, but kept running, the sky threatening to fall down and the trees bending over to grab you in their wooden hands and-  
With a bang you slammed into Sam, who quickly held on to you so you wouldn’t fall. 

“What’s wrong?!”  
He quickly scanned the area with his eyes, not quite sure what or who he was looking for. He had never seen you like this, so confused and terrified, eyes wide open and whole body shaking.  
“____, tell me what happened.”  
His voice was demanding but not in any way mean, just concerned. Dean had put down the bird and now stood next to you, the Colt in his hands and his whole body tense – ready to fight. Still terrified by whatever just happened you tried to find some words, but you couldn’t. How could you explain that you had seen Cas but he had not been there, after which his reflection had turned into your fathers’? How could you explain that someone had sneaked up on you –which was an improbable thing on its own - and had whispered in your ear, only for you to turn around and see no one?  
_Oh but I haven’t gone yet_  
A black silhouette in the distance caught your eyes yet its voice sounded as if it was standing next to you.  
“There!”  
You pointed at the figure and Dean quickly aimed his gun, but then lowered it with a confused expression on his face.  
“No one’s there…”  
Bobby, who had heard your cry but had been out in the woods to gather wood, now joined the three of you and looked around - but he didn’t see anything or anyone either.  
“He’s right there!” You tried not to shout, to keep your voice steady and calm, and then you noticed the silhouette had gone.  
“No…Wait…” You grabbed your head with both of your hands in frustration and confusion, your voice now barely above a whisper. “ What is going on…”  
Sam let go of you and gently put his hands on your shoulders, looking you in your eyes.  
“Calm down. Start at the beginning and tell us what happened.”  
His voice was calm, soothing, and you relaxed a bit.  
“I… I don’t…” You took in a shaky breath, kept it for a few seconds, then continued. “I don’t know…”  
Sam, Dean and Bobby exchanged glances for a moment, but waited patiently to continue talking. You tried to let go of the panic inside of you. It was okay, there was no one there. Sam, Dean and Bobby were here now, so don’t worry. You kept replaying those sentences in your head like a mantra, until the tension left your muscles a bit.  
“I… I guess you’re right.” You sighed, hands still shaking, and leaned against Sam’s chest for a moment. He wrapped his arms around you in a big, comforting hug.  
“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” 

_Good, let your guard down. It will be easier for me to get you._


	13. Reality Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You were going to be okay, yup, you were going to be fine._   
>  _Nothing was wrong with you._   
>  _Nothing would happen to you as long as the Winchesters were around._
> 
> _Right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter again, I'm sorry!  
> I'm gonna go and sleep now, I'll check for any mistakes later ;3

Whoever was playing tricks on you, you weren’t planning on giving in. You wouldn’t give that person the fun he or she was looking for and you wouldn’t show your fear, even though you felt like screaming. No one had ever been able to sneak up on you before, let alone disappear before you had seen them, making you pretty sure that he or she wasn’t human. You wondered if you should start training again, maybe your brain had become slower, lazy even. Something felt wrong, however. The skin around the two bullet wounds felt like they were burning, unnaturally so, and sometimes when you turned your head your view seemed to follow in slow-motion. The fire almost looked like it was changing colour now and then but that was plainly impossible.   
You started to wonder if there really was some there or if you just imagined it – maybe you were hallucinating? You hadn’t picked random mushrooms or anything. But how could it be just your imagination if you clearly saw it standing there, and felt its breath in your ear? It drove you crazy, thinking about this, crazier than you already felt.   
You looked up from the fire and glanced around a bit – and you were glad you had done so. You fell to the ground to dodge a knife that came flying at you with immense speed.   
“____, are you okay?!” Sam and Dean came rushing towards you but you quickly got up by yourself. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay! None of you got hit?”   
Your head moved swiftly, your eyes rapidly scanning the surroundings.   
“Hit by what?”   
You looked at him, a glance of disbelief in your eyes. “The fucking knife that came flying at us!”   
Bobby searched the ground, but didn’t find any knife at all.   
“There’s no knife here.” He stated, his voice and eyes filled with both confusion and worry.   
_Nothing here, nothing here!_  
An amused laugh echoed through your head but none of the others seemed to have heard it.   
“I- I think I’m going crazy.” Your voice broke halfway the sentence. Reality was slipping slowly from your grasp, like sand flowing through the spaces between your fingers. You could feel tears forming at your eyes, your heart twisting painfully. Dean took you in his arms and hugged you tight.   
“Don’t worry, we won’t let that happen. We’ll go back to Bobby’s house tomorrow evening. You’ll be fine.”   
He kept hugging you a bit longer and then let go, making the space around you feel cold and empty. You nodded and let out a trembling sigh. You were going to be okay, yup, you were going to be fine. Nothing was wrong with you. Nothing would happen to you as long as the Winchesters were around. Right?

Soon it was dark, and the four of you sat around the fire. The quails were being roasted above it, pierced on a stick, and even though it smelled delicious you weren’t paying attention to it. Instead you kept your ears keen, trying to hear every sound and shift. You were afraid to let your eyes wander from the fire, keeping them locked at the dancing flames as their light left colourful blots in your vision.  
It felt like danger was everywhere, every shadow and every tree threatening. You ignored the pain you felt everywhere, you even ignored the bullets that seemed to hit you again and again, shot from out of nowhere, not even leaving scratches. You ignored your father yelling, the stranger hissing in your ear, the colour-changing fire, the burning trees around you - it wasn’t real, none of it. You felt as if you had to throw up and your head was pounding as if your brain wanted to escape your skull. Your guts twisted around in your belly, almost making you curse out loud, though you wondered what would leave your throat first – the curse or a terrified cry.   
When the quail was ready you waved their offer away, knowing you would probably throw up. They knew they couldn’t force you to eat, their worry only growing stronger, but they tried to persuade you to take a bite anyway. You didn’t hear them. Their voices were nothing more than distant hums, overpowered by the loud, rustling sound that filled your ears. You closed your eyes and tried to figure out what the voices were whispering, growing frustrated as every try failed. Colours danced inside your eyelids, making you dizzy and confused. You needed to lie down, now, before you would fall to the ground. Stumbling multiple times you walked to the stone tent without uttering a word, carefully crouching inside. You collapsed before you could lower yourself down to the ground and stayed that way, one cheek pressing against the soft moss. The rustling changed to a high pitch tone piercing your thoughts. You felt someone touch your back but you weren’t able to move an look who that might be, but you didn’t care anymore. All you cared about was breathing now, breathing and staying alive. 

Something was definitely and terribly wrong with you. You refused to eat, saying you had your share already, but Bobby hadn’t seen you eat and neither had the brothers. You weren’t present, your eyes staring at the fire without seeing it, gazing at something far beyond. Sometimes you would shift your weight quickly as if you were about to fall over, other times your eyes would grow wide in fear even though you desperately tried to hide it. You looked away or at the ground every time your face contracted in soul shattering pain. Something was very, _**very wrong**_. Suddenly you got up and walked towards the tent, swaying like a drunk man, and as soon as you got inside you collapsed. Dean and Sam quickly rushed towards her.   
“____!”   
“Are you okay?!”  
“Of course she isn’t Dean, look at her! We need Cas or she might not make it ‘till tomorrow evening.”  
“Cas, get your ass down here, right now!”   
But Cas didn’t appear like he normally would. Dean cursed and Sam tried to get you in his arms to carry you out in the open, but the stones were blocking him and you and your large wings weren’t helping either.   
“But what’s wrong?” Bobby stood up too and looked at the pitiful scenery in front of him. “I mean, no one could have done this to her, and she definitely isn’t possessed.”   
Dean’s face suddenly showed nothing but realisation, quickly removing the bandage from your upper arm. The skin around it had grown darker, the veins almost black.  
“It are the wounds. Those damn maniacs shot her with poisoned bullets!”   
His voice betrayed his anger and his eyes were shooting fire. Sam bent over and examined the wound in your wing, suddenly wrinkling his nose, “Yeah, I smell poison. How could we not have noticed this?”   
Bobby heard Sam was blaming himself for this.   
“Sam, it’s not your fault, she’ll make it. I have antibiotics in my basement.”  
“We don’t know if those men are still there,” Dean sighed in frustration. “But we might as well take a look.”   
Sam turned to Bobby. “Maybe Dean and I could go, and if they are gone we’ll drive back here with the Impala and pick you up.”   
“But how do we get her out of here?” Dean asked and glanced at your unmoving body.   
“We’ll work that out as soon as we get to that point. Now go you idjits! Or she will be dead before you’re back!”   
The boys rushed away to find the road.   
“Let’s mark this spot so we know where to park the car.” Sam suggested, picking up a few sticks and jabbing them in the ground. After that they ran along the road, Sam being glad that he had been jogging every morning and Dean, well, Dean was cursing all the way. 

They slowed down and moved into the woods again before they entered the area around Bobby’s salvage yard. Sneaking closer they scanned the area carefully, making sure they weren’t walking right into an ambush. There seemed to be no one outside so they dare to go further - to the back of the house to be precise. When Sam peeked through the window he saw nothing but an empty room, floor littered with glass shards.   
“No one’s here.”   
“Are you sure?”   
Dean took a look himself too before moving to another window, but came to the same conclusion. They walked to the backdoor and noticed it was unlocked, so continued to venture inside without further obstructions, still cautious. They searched every corner of the house but with haste, they needed to pick you up as soon as possible. Dean quickly grabbed his coat and car keys as they had finished checking the last room, and they ran to the Impala. 

The drive seemed to take ages for both of them, even though they were driving 90 miles per hour, but at last they arrived and stopped the car next to the marked spot. The run back to camp was a true torture as every second the possibility that you had died was growing bigger and bigger. They stumbled through the trees, catching their breath as they leaned against a tree each. Sam found his voice first.  
“They are gone, let’s go.”   
Bobby nodded, his face showing a bit of relief.   
“Let’s get her out of here, she has lost consciousness.”   
They pushed the first two rocks of the tent to the sides, away from you, until they fell over. Sam gently took you in his arms, careful not to hurt your wings or wounds. Bobby covered the fire with sand and stones and grabbed their things before they all quickly returned to the black and silver car that was waiting patiently beside the road.


	14. An Unexpected Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When you peeked through the window your eyes fell on the skinny guy with a long, slim face and quite innocent eyes who was standing on the doorstep. Even though you admitted you had trust issues, you trusted your people-judging-skills enough to unlock the door and open it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy! I won't be uploading for a while due to school and stuff, sorry S:

They hurried inside. Only after they had gently put you on the couch Bobby dared to take in his surroundings. Apart from the smashed windows, broken hinges, and glass shards everywhere, the house was exactly as he left it and everything was still there. He was relieved to see his books untouched – hell, he was relieved his house was still standing and not burned to the ground. Suddenly he felt selfish, he shouldn’t be thinking about something as silly as possessions, so he quickly went to get the antibiotics.   
Your skin was burning hot and feverish as your body was fighting to get the poison out, unsuccessfully. Sam filled a glass with water and pressed the edge of the glass against your lips, letting some water flow into your mouth. You needed to drink a lot to get rid of the poison in your blood, but you couldn’t do it. You coughed, almost vomited the water back at Sam. It smelled like poison, tasted like blood, and felt like it filled your lungs instead of your stomach. 

Dean stood by the window, peering through the curtains. He felt the strong fear on his chest, afraid that those hunters might still be there waiting to strike at a moment of weakness. Why hadn’t Castiel come to save her?   
Bobby soon returned with a syringe filled with a clear fluid and injected it in your arm while Sam kept trying to make you drink even a drop of water, even though your whole body objected.   
“She should recover.” Bobby spoke, looking at your face with slight worry on his own.   
“How long will it take? We won’t be able to fend them off if they return, and we won’t be able to escape without leaving her here.” Dean went with his hand through his hair in frustration, eyes never leaving the trees.   
“Let’s just hope they don’t return then!” Bobby snapped loudly as his frustration found its way out as well.  
“Maybe we should move her to the Panic Room?” Sam put down the glass and looked at the others.  
Bobby and Dean nodded, and once again Sam lifted you carefully to take somewhere else.

Bobby opened the heavy iron door and closed it as soon as everyone was inside. Dean pulled the small bed on wheels away from the wall to make room for your wings and helped Sam with carefully laying you down, keeping your wings out of his way. Your lips were parted slightly as you were breathing heavily, your chest going up and down fast but with visible difficulty. The shadows casted by the enormous fan moved in a circle across the floor, creating an eerie play of light over your struggling body.  
“Cas can’t enter this place.” Dean reminded them, but by the look on their faces he could tell they didn’t think he would show up anymore. It puzzled him though, the fact that he hadn’t shown up. Everyone knew he cared a lot about her - would he just let you die like this? If Bobby hadn’t had those antibiotics you would certainly have died, and even now your situation wasn’t ensured of a happy ending. His train of thought was interrupted, however, by the sight of you regaining consciousness. 

With all the strength you could muster you opened your eyes against the too bright light that seemed to burn your retina. You lifted your hand to block it but your muscles were weak now, heavy even, so gravity pulled it down again almost immediately. Everything felt sore yet you needed to sit up to relieve your wings from the pressure of your body, or they would definitely start to tingle agonizingly soon. After less than a second of struggling to get up you felt three or four hands on your back and arms, helping you, and soon you were in a sitting position. You tried to look at one of the owners of the helping hands. The blurry image reconstructed itself in a few seconds time and took the detailed shape of Sam’s face, contorted in a worried frown.   
“Hi there.” You managed to say, your voice fragile but loud enough to hear. The second time you spoke you tried to put some more strength and volume in it. “How long was I unconscious?”   
“A while, but you will be okay. Just drink and sleep a bit.”   
Sam’s voice was soothing, comforting, and you closed your eyes for a moment – partly to receive as much of that comfort as possible and partly because your eyelids were getting heavy again. You knew you needed to stay awake, so you didn’t keep them shut for very long.   
“Here, take this.”   
“Thanks, Bobby.” You took the glass of water from him and as you took a sip you looked around, noticing you were in an unfamiliar room. It was cylindrical, the iron walls covered with signs and markings you knew, yet couldn’t remember what they were or for what purpose they served. A faint smell of salt hung in the air.   
“Where are we?”   
“In Bobby’s Panic Room. No demon, ghost, monster or angel can enter.” Dean answered.   
“I guess that makes me more human than monster. So no angels either, hmm?”   
You tried to hide your disappointment but they knew you too well to be fooled. You couldn’t blame Cas for not showing up, but it did sting a bit. You missed him more than you would like to admit. You wanted his comforting presence and gruff voice to cheer you up a bit, because you felt absolutely awful. Your stomach wouldn’t stop twisting around, your temperature was still at an all-time high, every beam of light was too bright and every sound too loud. You forced yourself to drink at least half of the contents of the glass, trying very hard not to throw up. The pounding in your head just wouldn’t stop and your vision switched between blurry and normal, making you even more nauseous than you already were. The shadows kept moving around the floor, silently, patiently. Oh how you wished this was all over. 

 

Days passed, most of them you were alone. Sam and Dean came to visit between hunts, telling you how it went and things like that - mostly small talk. When your situation improved to the point where you could walk without support, you convinced them to let you sleep on the couch again. You were sure that the men were gone and the bunker-bed wasn’t really comfortable.   
Bobby was often busy with his salvage yard or visiting that nice lady in town, but the two of you often had breakfast and dinner together; he would bring you the groceries and you would cook or make breakfast, which you would consume at the table in the kitchen. Your conversations would never go much deeper than wondering what the brothers would be hunting this time, or discussing something you had recently read in one of his books. A couple of times you had asked him to bring you some specific ingredients, so you could try baking small pies, and you were getting better with every try. 

The first few days, however, were extremely unpleasant to say the least.   
On your first night alone, most of the poison had still been coursing through your veins and your body was still fighting to get it out, causing you to drink three liters a day while still feeling dehydrated. There was nothing glamorous to living with your head above the toilet, but luckily the vomiting passed after a day and a night, leaving nothing but an empty stomach and light-headedness. You hated to be this stationary all the time. At times you had tried to walk to the door, but you would always collapse halfway, sending you to the cold iron floor. You felt hopelessly weak and vulnerable, and you realised you weren’t thinking straight. Your mind was clouded, slight hallucinations driving you insane, and your body felt so heavy - especially with those wings. The wounds were healing, yet it seemed to take _ages_. 

So you kept yourself entertained by drawing in the sketchbook you had asked Bobby to get you, or by practicing devil’s traps and heptagrams. You drew a moustache on the woman in bikini on Bobby’s calendar and hoped he would find out when you were gone, a mischievous grin on your face as you committed the tiny crime. You perfected your Latin and learned some exorcisms by heart, and you expanded your knowledge on common and rare creatures, slightly hoping to find something about your own kind. Sure, there were things about griffins in general, but nothing about human-griffin shapeshifters, and not even a small part of the information that was actually there could be linked to you. You weren’t exactly lion-like, or eagle-like for that matter – you weren’t exactly sure what mix of animals your bodily structure resembled. Maybe something tiger-like? Maybe a snow leopard? And the head was certainly bird-of-prey-like, but a nondescript one. In addition, your front paws were exactly that: paws – not a bird’s talons.   
What you did find out, however, was that a griffin’s feathers were needed to perform the Horn of Gabriel Sigil, which would attract any angels in the area, and innumerable questions arose. Were your feathers similar to the feathers of an angel? Was there a connection between griffins and those specific celestial beings? If there was, would it be the reason why you were attracted to Castiel? When even the internet couldn’t provide you with any answers you pushed it aside, keeping it in the back of your mind for later. Maybe Cas knew.

At the end of the fourth day your body was strong enough to endure some exercise, for you had lost some muscular tissue and weight together with most of the poison. Sit ups, push ups, pretty much any exercise you could remember. You were able to walk to the door and even further, through the basement and up the stairs, even though it took you twice, maybe even trice as long as a healthy person.   
When you looked around, you weren’t surprised to find that nothing had changed. It started to get dark outside, and once again you were made aware of the threateningly fast pace of the approaching winter.

The sound of a key being put in a lock and the sound of the door creaking open awoke you from your train of thought. You recognised Bobby’s rather heavy footfalls and a small smile pulled the corners of your lips upwards, waiting for your opportunity. As soon as the door to the living room gently swung open you spoke, unable to keep the smirk from creating a mischievous undertone to your words.  
“So, how was your day?”   
His startled expression elicited a much needed laugh from your lungs, and even though you felt kind of bad for scaring him you were glad to feel some endorphin kick in.   
“I’d like to ask you the same question. But why have you left the panic room? You should be in bed, recovering!” Bobby’s deep voice grumbled from under his moustache, but you could hear he was glad to see you standing on your own two feet without the help of others.   
“I’ll return soon enough, don’t worry. I just wanted to stretch my legs a bit.”   
He nodded, taking off his coat and throwing it on the sofa.   
You walked over to the kitchen and returned with a beer, which he took from you with a short nod.  
“Any news?”  
“Not as far as I know, those idjits never call me.”   
Your grin grew at the sound of Bobby’s amicable term for the brothers, but suddenly you remembered the thing you had wanted to ask him.   
“I've run out of bandages. Do you happen to have some left?”   
You folded your wings around you, so you could examine the old bandage around the wound in your right wing. It had stopped bleeding a day or three ago, but it wasn’t unusual for you to accidentally hit something with your wing, tearing the wound open again and reviving the burning sensation. But this time, you noticed when removing the bandage, it looked quite good. You checked your arm as well and came to the same conclusion, glad that you were finally getting somewhere. The skin had healed pretty nicely; it would probably only leave a small white-ish scar, but nothing too visible. 

And so the days of couch-sleeping, exercising, and pie-baking started, with occasional visits from Sam and Dean. Every day you tried to get your stamina, speed and agility to a higher level, and after some practise in the kitchen Dean fell in love with your pie.   
You knew you would put both their lives and your own at risk if you accompanied them on their hunts anytime soon, but you missed the thrill and the action and the great feeling of accomplishment after the success. You couldn't wait until your wings would finally be healed enough to change them away, it would quite literally take some weight off your shoulders. 

 

You were sitting on the sofa with your side leaning against the backrest, your wings neatly folded against your back, a cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other. Sam and Dean had left again, chasing a werewolf or something similar, and Bobby was getting some wood for the fireplace. You weren't expecting anyone, so the sudden ringing sound of the doorbell surprised you. You put down your tea and book on the floor beside your feet while you got up and you were careful not to kick it over when hurrying to the door. When you peeked through the window your eyes fell on the skinny guy with a long, slim face and quite innocent eyes who was standing on the doorstep. Even though you admitted you had trust issues, you trusted your people-judging-skills enough to unlock the door and open it - though it might also have been the poisonous mist that was still subtly present in your head. You opened just far enough so you could stand in the opening with one leg.   
“Hi, can I help you?”   
The guy’s eyes grew wider and scanned your face and body.   
“Well hello there!” He tried to pull a sexy face, which didn’t really work out, and you tried with all your might to suppress a giggle. “I’m Garth.”   
You smiled (how could you not?), shaking his outstretched hand with a slight frown curling your eyebrows and gave him your name.   
“Even though you are one beautiful lady, I’m not here for you unfortunately. I’m here for Bobby, Bobby Singer?”   
You had the urge to laugh and you couldn't help but feel flattered, so you just gave him a wide and warm grin and answered.   
“Well he’s not here at the moment but he should be back anytime soon. You could come in and wait for him, if you’d like?”   
“That would be great.” 

You let the door open as you turned on your heels and walked towards the living room while talking loudly over your shoulder.   
“I assume you know your way around here?”   
Guessing you had to be hospitable you continued to the kitchen and opened the fridge, peering inside as the sudden cold sent a small shiver over your skin.   
“Would you like something to drink?”   
Again no answer came so you shut the fridge and turned around, only to see that he was pointing a gun at you. With a click he took the safety off, his eyes fixated on you but his hands trembling slightly. The different emotions were visible on his face; confusion, disbelief, duty, and a little bit of fear.  
“What are you and what have you done to Bobby?”   
You had totally forgotten about your wings. You raised your hands slowly, taking on a subordinate pose – your body language telling him that you weren’t dangerous.   
“I am nothing to worry about and I haven’t done anything to Bobby. He’s out in the woods, gathering firewood.”   
“How do I know for sure I can trust you? How do I know you haven’t killed him?”   
“Because I’m right here you idjit.” Bobby put down the wood next to the fireplace. “Lower your gun, Garth.”   
A smile formed on your lips and you let out a soft sigh of relief when the guy put the gun away.  
“I-I’m sorry, I just had to be sure.” He looked at you, hands still trembling but eyes showing the sincerity of his apology. His eyes reminded you of a lost puppy, and you couldn’t help but think his face was adorable, so you forgave him in an instant.   
“It’s okay, I would have done the same thing.” 

The three of you sat down, you in your spot on the sofa with the cup of tea back in your hands and the two men on the other two chairs. Garth looked from your face to your wings and back, and then to Bobby, utterly confused, before returning his gaze to you.   
“So, why do you have wings?”   
“Well most of the time I don’t, but I can’t change them away at the moment.”   
“She was shot.” Bobby explained, and took a sip of his beer.   
“I’m sorry to hear that. Who would shoot such a beautiful lady?”   
You chuckled. “Thank you, but you almost wanted to shoot me, too.” You added a playful wink to show him that it was only a joke, and that you didn’t hold a grudge against him.  
“Yeah, that’s true…” He smiled awkwardly.   
“But don’t worry about me, I’m on your side. I've been hunting with Sam and Dean for quite a while now.”  
“Why aren't you hunting with them right now? I spoke to them yesterday evening.”   
“Like Bobby said, I have... incurred some injuries about a week ago, and I haven’t fully recovered yet.”   
You took a sip of your tea and calculated the time needed to get back to your full health. It would still take some days of training and resting, but you would be able to hunt within a week time - unless Castiel showed up of course, he would be able to fix you. You noticed you didn't expect him to come anymore and your heart contracted for a split second. You kept yourself from going down the same path your mind had followed so many times before. Where would he be? Would he be okay? What if something has happened to him? You knew only time would grant you answers. 

Bobby and Garth continued the conversation about you for a few more minutes until they changed topic. You listened without paying much attention to what was actually being said, most of it was just small talk anyway. Somewhere in the conversation you went to get them a glass of coke and the last pieces of your latest attempt at chocolate cake, before returning to your seat once again. You wondered how many days it would take for this couch to attain the shape of your butt. More random thoughts fluttered by as you stared out of the window, and in the reflection of the glass you could see Garth glancing at you every once in a while. 

After an hour or so the welcomed guest stood up, saying that he had to leave as he still had some things to do. He seemed to hesitate, fiddling with his hands like a nervous teenager, until he turned to you.   
“Would you like to go out on a date with me?”   
You stared at him, surprised and slightly dumbfound. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked you out, and you tried to find the right response. Sure, you felt flattered, but you also felt guilty for making him like you when you were interested in someone else.   
“I am so sorry Garth, I would have loved to go on a date with you, but I already like someone else.” You gave him a sad, apologetic smile and much to your surprise he smiled back.   
“That’s a pity!”   
Even though he had just been rejected he seemed pretty happy and positive.In the short amount of time you had known him you had recognised him to be a sweet, honest, and innocent guy, and you were sure that in different circumstances you might have liked him. Your heart wished him the best of luck in finding love.   
A friendly hug later he left and Bobby and you watched him drive away until he was out of sight, after which you returned to the living room for another boring afternoon.


	15. Just Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _To wish upon a star would be to wish upon something long gone, anyway._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, sorry!

It rained just slightly, cold drops touching, gathering volume, before softly streaming down your face. Another hunt and so another day had passed, but you had hardly noticed. Days seemed to flow over in each other, making no difference between yesterday or the day before. You weren’t fit enough yet to fight the big guys which Sam and Dean were fighting, so you took on the easier ones and smaller tasks, digging graves and burning bodies for instance. You expected to be able to hunt with the brothers soon, but for now you would just have keep on doing whatever it was you had been doing those last few days. You didn’t have a car, nor the money or need to buy one, but you didn’t mind walking back to Bobby’s. The host himself had gone on a hunt in one of the adjacent states, so you didn’t expect him to be home soon.  
It had been a week since you could hide your wings once again and the religious hunters hadn’t returned. The way you were living could even be called peaceful if it wasn’t for the constant worries tearing you apart from the inside. Maybe it was better to forget and move on, your mind told you again and again, but your heart would never even consider it. Rationale and emotions constantly fighting for dominance within you, silently during the day but oh so violently at night. Your soul was stubborn even though your heart felt heavy at times, and although you came close you never actually did give up. It was something you sometimes liked about yourself. Sometimes you hated it. Giving up would be so much easier anyway, but what would that make you? Pathetic? Weak? Impatient?  
You didn’t know, but you didn’t really want to find out. There was a price to pay for this stubbornness, though, which you were reminded of when both awake and asleep, day in and day out. 

It was late, but rain nor darkness bothered you. Only the last few silent strangers still inhabited the streets, walking past without acknowledging your existence or you acknowledging theirs, yet with every step you took the village grew emptier. Streetlights were becoming beacons of safety for those still around while the shadows spread, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before the fake smiles on abandoned bus stop advertisements became unsettling to any spectator that noticed them. Their cold, edited eyes following every move, their smiles turning to grins. No wonder you felt uneasy.  
Your eyes scanned your surroundings, lingering on every dark alleyway as a shiver ran over your skin.  
Suddenly your heart skipped a beat.  
There, at the corner of the street, stood Castiel.  
Your legs started running before consulting your head, a sudden light headedness filling you as pure happiness took over, pushing away all other feelings and thoughts. 

And then he was gone. 

You almost stumbled as your feet abruptly lost their motivation to continue, gravity seemingly heavier than before. It took a minute before you could blink again, afraid that reality would escape you. The overwhelming happiness now crushed down on you, and all you could do was stare, your mouth suddenly dry yet your eyes brimming with tears. Had it been the residue of the poison, causing you to hallucinate again, or were you actually losing your mind this time?  
You placed your hands over your face and took in a deep, shaky breath, pushing the tears away before they had the chance to fall. You hadn’t asked for this. You hadn’t asked to be tortured.  
“Please, come back... Please, just-” a desperate whisper, caught by the palms of your hands before it could reach the cold air, and you shook your head. Your hands fell to your sides as you turned your face towards the sky, the cloud of your breath travelling up past the artificial light that was blocking out the stars.  
_To wish upon a star would be to wish upon something long gone, anyway._

 

You made it home but the couch was cold and the house was empty, the silence suffocating. Your body didn’t even bother to shiver, your heart beating slower and slower until you thought it had disappeared altogether. You didn’t think you would mind if it did. 

Sleep didn’t come as such peace was not granted to you, it seemed. You quietly shifted under the blanket until your bare feet made contact with the wooden floor. The thin white light of the moon shone through the curtains, caressing you, reflections of raindrops on the glass displayed on your skin as you stood up. Even the house itself seemed asleep. Your fingers gently moved over the spines of the books on the shelf, eventually picking one that seemed to respond to your touch.  
Page after page, word after word, but sleep wouldn’t come. You didn’t want to think. You didn’t want to feel. Yet the body wouldn’t always listen to the soul and so you thought, and so you felt.

You realised where you had gone wrong - you were a hunter now. Both Sam and Dean had experienced things like this, Sam with Jessica and Dean with Lisa, so why had you expected it would have worked out between you and Cas? Because he wasn’t human?  
A hunter’s life was one of brotherhood, one of purpose, yet is was a lonely life.  
A hunter couldn’t afford to love someone.  
If the lover got hurt, the hunter would be weakened, his emotions would cloud his mind.  
The lover could be used against the hunter.  
The pain or death of the hunter could scar the lover.  
It wouldn’t be beneficial for either party in any case. You had been oblivious, ignorant.

 

“Maybe I need to give up.”


	16. Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You felt like dying was the better option, the easy way out, the way to stop the torture._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe this music fits with the story?  
> https://listenonrepeat.com/?v=ultDedZdUD0#Shigatsu_wa_Kimi_no_Uso_OST%3A_23_-_Kujikesou_ni_Naru_Watashi_wo_Sasaete_Kudasai

Light.  
Fresh air. 

You could feel the cold oxygen fill your lungs as you awoke, the sun shining down on you, the soft and warm grass gently stroking the exposed parts of your skin. You squinted your eyes as you propped yourself up on your arm, the other hand shielding your face from the light. Once your eyes became accustomed to the warm hues of summer, the scenery that lay before you took your breath away – distant mountains rising up to the voluminous clouds, their base obstructed from view by the trees on the other side of the glistening lake. The gentle whisper of the wind seemed to carry soft, stray notes of a masterly played piano, though when you tried to listen to it, it seemed to disappear behind the quiet chatter of birds.

Your whole body felt relaxed, your soul peaceful and your heart filled with bliss. The simple T-shirt and pair of short denim jeans gave your skin the opportunity to catch as much of the sun’s warmth as possible, the comfortable glow a welcome feeling. Sam and Dean returned to the wooden cottage that stood at the line of trees separating the field from the vast woods, still soaked from their swim in the lake - taking Bobby , who had been fishing, with them. You waved at them, and Dean beckoned you with an arm gesture to come but you shook your head and gestured back that they could go without you. He pouted jokingly before casting you a last warm smile and stepping through the door, out of your view. 

The warm water seemed to beckon you as you stretched your arms and back, a content sigh escaping your lips - how you wished you had taken your swimwear with you. Did you even have something like that? Probably not.  
Your feet carried you to the quay that stood just above the waterline, its wooden boards rough but warm to your soles. As you reached the end you looked down, noticing the soft downwards slope of the lakebed and the tiny fish that hovered above it, their movements not breaking the stillness of the clear water. Even the fish here seemed at peace. 

A soft breeze unlike the wind seemed to caress your skin for a second and you recognised it – you would recognise that shift of air anywhere. In less than a second you made a 180 degree spin on your heels and your heart stopped. 

“Hi...” 

You stared at him, shocked, not quite sure what to do or what to say as your gaze was locked with his. 

“Cas?” 

It was more of a silent breath than a spoken word, yet it had more emotion to it than a thousand stories could describe. He stayed silent and you thought you saw something in his eyes, but you couldn’t quite place it. His lips parted as he searched for the right words yet he didn’t seem to be able to find them, his eyes suddenly averted to scan the ground for something to say – anything, anything at all. But he didn’t need to. You closed the distance between your bodies with one swift step and wrapped your arms around him, tightly, keeping him as close as you could, afraid you would lose him again. His arms closed around your body as you buried your face in his white shirt, your eyes leaving warm stains on the soft fabric.  
It took a while before you found the strength to let go, questions flooding your brain as you let your fingers slide past the corners of your eyes. Your mouth started speaking before you had the chance to compose yourself, but you couldn’t help it. You had missed him, so, _so_ much. 

“Are you alright? Where have you been? So much has happened, I-“  
You forced yourself to stop, trying to gain control over your shaking shoulders and clenching heart. His eyes had found yours again, their tender blue soothing your trembling soul.  
“I have been held up-”  
Hesitant voice, evading eyes. Held up? By what? By who? More questions, overflowing the edges of infinity as your brows furrowed. He seemed to know what you were thinking and spoke again, that gruff voice unusually soft – almost distant.  
“I-... My brothers, they... “  
Suddenly the blue of his eyes was the personification of Sadness itself and your heart seemed to rip itself to pieces. It hurt you to see him like this, his whole body language signalling his weariness, the usual spark gone from his gaze.  
“They are angry.”  
So many questions , every answer another factor to their exponential growth.  
“...But..” You were almost too afraid to ask – afraid that you already knew the answer - yet you mentally kicked yourself in order to continue.  
“Why?”  
He dared not to look at you.  
“Because of you and... Me. And what we did.”  
The fear that had manifested in the deepest pit of your being rose abruptly to surface with a harsh blow to the stomach, hitting the air from your lungs making you want to collapse – yet you didn’t even flinch. Your blood froze and everything just seemed _wrong_. The emptiness you had felt since he had left now filled itself with a mix of emotions that was even worse.  
Guilt. Anguish. Frustration. Helplessness.  
You remembered that part of the Bible that you had read over and over and over again so many times before, never accepting it – almost denying its existence. 

_For if God spared not the angels that sinned, but cast them down to hell, and delivered them into chains of darkness, to be reserved unto judgment._

That one word, echoing soundlessly. _Hell_. He was going to go to hell. He was going to lose everything he had. The Winchesters, his family, his identity.  
“Is this...” _Is this a goodbye? Is this the last time I will ever see you? Is this the end?_  
“What will happen to you?”  
“I don’t know. My brothers...”  
He shook his head. He looked so hurt and it killed you from the inside, like acid burning away the vulnerable pulse that was the essence of your existence. You felt like dying was the better option, the easy way out, the way to stop the torture. The irony was that you didn’t know where you would go, whether it would be Heaven or Hell. You wanted neither.  
“I will return to you, ____.”  
His voice regained a bit of its confidence, steadiness, and reassuring rumble.  
No. No, no, _no_ , this was all **_wrong_**.  
You had ruined everything, you had hurt both of you, you had turned his family against him - you had been selfish. Tears didn’t even have the chance to glide down your red cheeks as they were pushed away by endless new ones, falling to the wooden planks that seemed cold now. The colours lost their glow as the sky grew dim, clouds ominously dark.  
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”  
A flash of hurt in his eyes. Good. Let him hate you.  
“Make up with your brothers, tell them I seduced you. Tell them...”  
Tell them what? That you were the one that deserved to be punished, not he? You didn’t want him to lose his family just because of some silly woman, or to go to Hell for the same reason. You hadn’t heard much about it because Dean sort of avoided the subject, and you knew when to push further and when to stop, but the things you had heard were the opposite of pleasant – obviously. No one deserved a fate as gruesome as eternal torture, and _especially_ not Castiel. 

Were you brave enough to take his place?

You were a coward, running off at the sight of danger just to stay alive. You couldn’t possibly sign up for Hell out of free will, even if it would save Cas, and you hated yourself for it - but death scared you more than anything else on earth. You enjoyed living, hunting with Sam and Dean, taking pleasure from the smallest things such as warm showers and the smell of freshly baked pie. Hell would mean to give up everything, to lose all you ever cared for.  
Yet this was exactly what threatened to happen to Castiel.  
Your heart couldn’t decide who it cared for more. You knew what was the right thing to do, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you didn’t choose that option – oh bittersweet irony.  
You were prepared to take his place, if there was no other option available. 

Your confidence returned and you met his gaze, trying with all your might to ignore the way his broken-hearted expression killed you on the inside. You noticed how doubt crept into his eyes as he started to wonder if you were joking or not, confusion growing stronger with every second. He seemed to lose most of his calm composure as his shoulders slacked. 

And just for a split second he was covered in blood and bruises. 

It all happened so fast that you weren’t sure if it had been your imagination, until things started to fall into place. He wasn’t tired – he was silently suffering. Your eyes grew wide and you lifted your hand to touch him but stopped mid-air as you realised your touch might hurt him.  
“Cas... are you alright?”  
“Don’t worry, most of it is not my blood.”  
You looked at him, shocked, and a cry of frustration left your mouth as your heart splintered. “ _Most of it!_ ” This couldn’t be true. A boiling hatred unknown to you before seemed to rise from the earth to your feet and up to your throat – you wanted to growl, bare your teeth, rip apart anyone who had hurt him, but you contained yourself. “Whose is it, then?”  
He seemed to hesitate, as if unable to accept it, before speaking softly.  
“My brothers’.”  
The hatred turned to fear. His brothers, the other angels, were trying to... kill him? You scanned his face, not sure what you expected to find. He had killed some of his brothers. You noticed he had been reading your thoughts as he suddenly let his gaze drop, unable to look you in your eyes.  
“They gave me no choice.”  
Another short moment in which his skin was blue and black, his trench coat stained with reds and browns.  
“I do not have to ability to keep this dream going for much longer, _____.” 

You loved him. You loved him with every atom of your body and every aspect of your soul, every beat of your heart and every breath that left your lungs. His sorrow was your sorrow, his pain your pain, his death... His death would be the end of you. It couldn’t go on like this, this was a downwards spiral and you knew both of you had to escape before that wasn’t an option anymore.  
“Please, Castiel-“ You took a deep breath. “Try to make it right with your brothers if you can. I don’t want you to lose everything, and I don’t want you to get hurt. Maybe we should stop... this... us. We can still hunt together, you know? Enjoy small conversations, spend time together - as acquaintances.”  
You couldn’t stop the tears. This didn’t feel like a breakup, this felt like a goodbye, and your whole body ached to grab him and to never let go. This would be so much easier if you could just stop feeling.

Suddenly you were back in his embrace and your knees collapsed. He kept holding you but gently brought you down to the wooden planks, sitting down while keeping you against him. His smell, his warmth, his breath in your hair, it all seemed so real yet he felt so distant. You didn’t want him to leave. You didn’t want him to die. You didn’t want to be alone anymore. 

He didn’t want to let go, keeping you pressed against his slashed and bruised body. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from following every single thought that had ran through your head. You made his heart twist in ways he had thought impossible, the warm embrace of the essence of your being unlike any other. He had felt connected to you ever since that night, your soul lingering both in his mind and in his heart. It felt so _right_ to be near you, to hear your voice, to feel your touch. He would sacrifice anything for it. He felt his energy draining away, and soon he would have to leave again. He knew how you feared for his wellbeing - his undeniable love for you only grew because of it - and it stung him deep that he had made you feel so hopelessly depressed, but he was determined to return to you.  
You looked up at him, the look in your eyes adding another wound to his heart because you realised he had to go, your eyes pleading, sorrowful. He tightened his hold of you for a bit, before releasing you completely.  
“I’m sorry.” 

And then he was gone.


	17. Pleas and Favours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The newly found purpose filled your body with anticipation and you were ready to set your plan into action right away._

Now even sleep wouldn’t bring your weary head some rest.

You had dried your red, tearstained cheeks after finding the willpower to force yourself to get up, muscles sore and cramped from the night on the couch. It was still dark, and a glance at the clock told you it wasn’t even past five yet. Shuffling over the wooden floorboards you silently made your way towards the bathroom, flicking on the light and closing the door behind you as you entered. The yellow glow gave the small space something ominous, and if that wasn’t bad enough already your face made you jump slightly when you reached the mirror. You looked absolutely horrible. Dark circles had formed under your red eyes, which were still partially closed against the light, and your hair was a complete mess – much like the rest of you. Not able to help the sigh escaping your lips you rubbed your index finger over the dark spot under one of your eyes, hoping it was just a make-up stain, but no such luck. You told yourself you only needed some more sleep, and after smoothing down your hair a bit you left the bathroom in empty darkness again, only to come to a standstill in the middle of the living room. 

To be completely honest, you didn’t want to return to your ‘bed’ yet, afraid of the dreams that might plague you once your eyes were shut. Of course you hoped that Cas would visit more, if not all of your dreams, even if only just for a few seconds, so you could at least see his face once in a while.  
Yet your body was aching for you to rest a bit longer, your mind unable to focus on much more than a couple of scattered thoughts. The empty feeling, the hollowness, the headache and the churning stomach combined ultimately convinced you to move your feet once more, to walk those last couple of steps towards the sofa, and you let gravity do the rest. Ungraceful, but effective. 

Nights weren’t supposed to last an eternity – not when every muscle in your body begged you to fall asleep. It wouldn’t be long before Sam would quietly get out of bed for his morning jog. It wouldn’t be long for your keen ears to hear his soft footfalls, for your skin to feel the shift of air as he moved through the house. It wouldn’t be long before you would have to wait at least 18 hours before you could fall asleep again. Another potential hunt had surfaced, but it was too far away to keep Bobby’s house as a place to stay, meaning you would have to sit through hours of small talk and rock music, contemplating life and spiralling down into the darker parts of your thoughts. You didn’t mind small talk and rock music, and often it was even enjoyable, but it would be sheer torture when your mind and body weren’t fully rested. Maybe being back on the road again would be good for you, a change of scenery so to speak. Maybe you could start to focus on the hunts again instead of everything else. 

_What will happen to you?_

_I don’t know. My brothers..._

His brothers. 

_They are angry._

He was killing his brothers.

_They gave me no choice._

And they were trying to kill him. 

__

You had heard a couple of their names, mentioned by the Winchesters or by Castiel himself. Raphael, Michael, Balthazar, Gabriel, Uriel – all of them powerful celestial beings you wouldn’t dare to fuck with. But you needed to do _something_.  
Suddenly an idea came to mind.  
Sure, it was destined to fail, and maybe it would be the last thing you ever did, but it was worth a shot. The newly found purpose filled your body with anticipation and you were ready to set your plan into action right away, but you knew you needed to be sharp and rested before you could begin. 

You let out another sigh, a confident one this time, and repositioned yourself comfortably – or as close as it could get to being comfortable – on the couch. The blanket didn’t feel as heavy anymore, or the silence as deafening, and you weren’t restless any longer: you were patient, calculating, your heart frozen as to let your mind do the work. You weren’t going to sit around and wait any longer. No dream or nightmare would be able to scare you, now that you embraced the darkness with open arms and a smile on your face, and your struggle to fall asleep was over as the night accepted your pleas. 

“Wake up, sleepyhead, it’s almost time to go.”  
“Just a couple more minutes, Sam...”  
“You’ve said that three times now. C’mon, breakfast is ready.”  
The low grumble that came from your stomach told you that it really was time for you to get up, and with a sleepy half-groan, half-yawn you pushed yourself upright. After a quick shower and a change of clothes you joined the three men at the kitchen table, and a plate with something that looked like toast was put in front of you.  
“Still can’t get it right?” You chuckled as you watched Dean fumble with bread and butter.  
“This would be much easier if Bobby decided to buy something useful like a toaster for once.” He shot an annoyed glace towards said Bobby, who only shrugged.  
“I don’t need one because I know how to make toast without it.”  
You snorted at his snarky reply and a chuckle escaped from Sam’s throat, resulting in a grin on Bobby’s face as well. You liked this. You liked the friendly atmosphere, the happy expressions on their faces, the unintelligible but amicable insults and curses mumbled by Dean as he dropped the bread.  
Soon it was time to leave, and as you thanked your host for his hospitality and kindness he stepped forward and hugged you tightly, only letting go after you made him aware of the fact that he was nearly crushing you.  
“You’re always welcome here, kiddo. Don’t let those idjits drive you insane.” A last pat on the shoulder and it was the brothers’ turn to say goodbye.  
You watched the bearded man on the porch disappear from your line of sight as the car turned the corner, picking up the speed, until the trees swallowed the salvage yard in the distance. 

You had survived the 8 hour long drive, and you still hated sitting still in a box on wheels for what seemed to be eons, but the motel was far from unpleasant this time. It was situated near a small town in the middle of nowhere, where strange things had been happening the last couple of days. You had placed your bets on ghosts and you turned out to be right - the hunt was quick and smooth, leaving you with enough time to get everything you needed for your mission sorted out. You had secretly taken one of the Angel Blades from Bobby’s basement ( _”I think I might have forgotten something in the panic room, I’ll be back in a second.” “Sure, we’ll wait in the car.”_ ) and much to your surprise this town had a local craftsman, who still forged things such as horseshoes and decorative items, and you had worked your charms to convince him to melt the blade into two smaller ones for a small price. The blades were now easily hid, one under your shirt and one in your shoe, invisible both from a distance and from up close. 

While Sam and Dean were God knows where doing God knows what, you were in the bathroom of the motel, a small incision in your hand to draw the blood that you used for drawing the angel banishing sigil on your belly. Better safe than dead. Now all that was left was to find a quiet place where no one would interrupt you, and there just happened to be an abandoned warehouse at the edge of town. Even to you all this, the craftsman, easy hunt, and abandoned warehouse, seemed suspiciously convenient, as if this was meant to happen. Did someone know about your plans? You certainly didn’t hope so. Maybe it was just your paranoia acting up.  
After bandaging your hand you got out a piece of paper and a pen, leaving a message for the guys so that they wouldn’t worry when they didn’t find you in the motel this afternoon. You weren’t planning on being gone for too long, but you reckoned it could be at least a couple of hours before you had found at least one angel that would be willing to help you. So you grabbed the cheap throwaway cell phone you had bought this afternoon – you had to admit, you were starting to run low on money – and made sure your blades were hidden before you made your way out of the motel and to the outskirts of the village. 

So how did this work?  
You stood in the middle of the empty warehouse, a little unsure of what to do next. You didn’t have any holy oil and you hadn’t practiced your angel trap sign lately but you didn’t plan on forcing the angels to listen to you, guessing that wouldn’t really help when asking a favour, but you didn’t really know how to summon angels either. You knew about the Horn of Gabriel Sigil, remembering it needed feathers of a griffin amongst other rare ingredients – which you didn’t have apart from the feathers, so that wasn’t really an option. You recalled one particular night, though, making your cheeks heat up slightly. 

_You... wished me to be here_

You had indeed silently asked him to keep you company that night, and wow, the kind of company he had been – but you needed to stop thinking about that. Maybe if you wished or prayed for an angel to come and speak with you, they would actually show up? Well it was worth a try. The first name that came to mind was Gabriel. You knew he was a trickster, but The Horn of Gabriel Sigil was named after him so he must at least have some influence Upstairs, right? And so you prayed to him, begged him to spare a couple of minutes of his time to listen to you, to help his brother Castiel. Then you waited. 

After a couple of minutes you grew doubtful. Hadn’t it worked? Had you not prayed loudly or urgently enough? Did he have better things to do or did he purposefully ignore you to see what you would do? You knew one thing for sure, and that was that you weren’t going to give up so easily – and so you prayed louder, forging urgency into your prayer, until halfway through -  
“Yeah, yeah you can stop now, I heard you the first time.”  
You turned around, surprised but relieved he actually came. “I’m glad you’re here, I need your help. It’s for Castiel.”  
He looked at you, eyebrows raised in intrigue, and gave you a once-over.  
“My, my! Are _you_ that sinful woman I heard whispers about? I must say, my brother chose well.” Another quick once-over.  
You didn’t as much as blink, your stare fixed and steady, your eyes pleading. “Please, Gabriel. They are hurting him, he’s killing his own brothers, all because of me. I need to stop this, but I can’t do it alone.”  
His face softened, the mischievous twinkle in his eyes replaced with sympathy, and he spoke more softly this time. “So you do care for him, I’m glad to hear that. You did work yourself into an unpleasant situation.” A soft chuckle left his lips, but his face didn’t show anything but a gently sadness. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, however. You need an angel to talk to the others, right? To convince them to stop attacking Cas?”  
You gave a short nod, the tone in his voice slowly draining your hope away. He shifted his weight on his other foot, his smile now apologetic.  
“I must admit, I’m a poor excuse for an angel. After shit went down, I left heaven and have been on Earth since. Don’t have much contact with my bro’s anymore, and I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t listen to me. I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t help you.”  
You had to fight to keep the tears that threatened to form at the corners of your eyes at bay, and you swallowed hard so you could reply with a steady voice.  
“It’s okay, thank you for your time and sorry for bothering you, I’m grateful that you came.” You gave a slight bow as you were unsure how to act in front of a creature so powerful, even though you were kind of in a relationship with one. He chuckled shortly again, the compassion in his eyes almost too much to bear.  
“If there’s anything else, please call me. I might be famous for being a trickster but I know a good heart when I see one. Cas is lucky to have you.”  
And with a swoosh he was gone. 

You stared at the ground for a couple of minutes, disheartened. He was kind, truly, but he wasn’t able to help you, and you worried none of them might be. Knowing you needed to pull yourself together you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a second to focus solely on your heartbeat. No time for sentiment, only time to move on to the next angel. Balthazar. You had heard Castiel talk about him more than once, so you guessed they must at least have been friends sometime in the past. 

“Who do we have here?”  
“Someone who needs your help.” You looked at the man in front of you, who was mockingly staring back at you, his arms crossed.  
“Why in the _world_ would you need my help? I don’t have the time to worry about every human’s petty worries.”  
“It’s about Castiel. I need the others to stop trying to kill him.”  
He was silent for a moment, trying to hide the puzzlement in his eyes. So he didn’t know about you yet – you weren’t sure whether that would turn out to be a good thing or a bad thing, but at least you had caught his attention.  
“And what do you know about my brother? Why would you care about something like that?”  
You hesitated. You knew he would mock you, hit you with sarcasm, as soon as you told him you cared for Cas. It seemed your face was easy to read.  
“Oh no, don’t tell me you are _in love_ with him!” He laughed. “Hun, I don’t know about any human-angel relationship working out.”  
Suppressing the anger that started to boil in your core was not very difficult and you easily managed to conceal it, but your voice had definitely grown a more venomous undertone.  
“I didn’t come to you for relationship counselling, I came to you to ask a favour. I thought that you, as his brother, would at least care the slightest bit about his wellbeing, or about that of your other brothers. Though I’m starting to think that you don’t mind them mindlessly slaughtering each other.”  
He was slightly startled by your reply but a smirk soon spread on his face. “The cat has claws. As a matter of fact I do care about Castiel - he is a good friend of mine - but I also think he can handle this on his own or he would have come to me already.”  
“He is _killing_ his own _family_! Even if he survives that physically, think of what it will do to him as a person!”  
You tried to calm yourself down and took in a deep breath, your gaze still locked onto Balthazar’s.  
“Please, I’m only asking you to have a small chat with a couple of your brothers so that they will leave him alone. He didn’t do anything wrong, it was me who caused this mess.”  
“Alright, I’ll give it a try. But I must warn you, my brothers can be as stubborn as a flock of birds fighting over a slice of bread. Castiel will owe me one for this.”  
“Thank you. Tell them that it wasn’t Cas’s fault and that I’m prepared to take the blame and the punishment. Please let me know if you haven’t been able to change their minds.”  
He let out a sigh. “Alright, goodbye hun.”  
And he was gone as well. 

You had little confidence in his succeeding, as he didn’t even know why his brothers were fighting Cas, but your whole being hoped that it would at least cause the other angels to look your way instead of his. Even if Balthazar didn’t succeed you could still ask many of the other angels – maybe you could even talk to one that was actively tracking and attacking your lover. But for now, all you could do was wait, wait and pray for Castiel to be alright. 

You left the abandoned warehouse and made your way back to the motel, in need of a shower to wash the dried blood off your stomach.  



	18. Pffsh, Amateurs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _There was a twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his face that said ‘I’m so cool, look at me, I’m a real man’, giving you a hard time keeping back the chuckle in your throat. This was way too easy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are all my chapters short ;-;

Flop! And up the pancake went. You had been awake for about an hour already, taking the time to get up, take a shower, and prepare breakfast for yourself and the brothers. The whole kitchen smelled delicious and you couldn’t help but hum a tune while making one pancake after another, flipping them up in the air and skilfully catching them again. Only when you heard footsteps upstairs you dared to turn on the radio (you knew how _pleasant_ Dean’s mood would be if you woke him up before sunrise) and your hips began to sway themselves to the beat, whether you liked it or not. It was still a few weeks until Christmas but the festive atmosphere was palpable everywhere, and even though it had been weeks since you had spoken to Balthazar you couldn’t help but look forward to actually experiencing such a holiday – especially now that you had a family to share it with. You and Dean had instantly agreed on celebrating it but Sam had been reluctant, saying that there were more important things to do. Not that this would stop you from buying them gifts - in fact you had taken up a job as a waitress in the town you were currently staying, and it was paying pretty well. It wasn’t below you to unbutton the top two or three buttons of your outfit, showing a bit more bosom, if it meant that you would go home with twice as much money. It was weird to think that men were this easily influenced by things as petty as boobs, those silly blobby things that often only got in your way when doing day to day stuff, though you had heard enough about the stereotype from Sam and Dean; as your semi-official brothers they felt it was their duty to tell you about and protect you from all those men that ‘were only after one thing’. You didn’t think anyone would jump you anytime soon, especially not in broad daylight, but it did make you more aware of the men on the streets when you returned to the motel in the evening, watching their every move and feeling their eyes on your back as you walked past. It was impossible to ignore the fact that your guard had been down more and more as it got replaced with quiet confidence, so this alertness might have been a good thing if it didn’t creep you out as much, or if it hadn’t been so biased towards men – women could be just as dangerous, you being a fine example yourself. 

While dancing around, adding a twist and a turn here and there, you stacked the pancakes on three different plates until Sam entered the small kitchen. With a soft chuckle he took his plate, poured some syrup over his food while shaking his hips, and danced right past his brother and out of the kitchen again. You laughed and handed Dean, who had been watching you two idiots dance around with a grin on his face, his breakfast and the bottle of maple syrup and followed him to the sitting area with your own plate in your hands.  
Pancakes were your speciality - well, after pie, which you had been practicing on while recovering from the poison - and you had to give it to yourself: these were the best damn pancakes ever made. Dean’s munching was the rather loud proof of that. 

After breakfast you left the guys, one with the laptop on his lap to search for a new lead and the other with his Asian Beauties magazine in front of his face, to go and get the usual groceries: ammunition, some water bottles, pie, and the like. One thing you had added to the list this time was ‘vegetables’, and you were prepared to force it down their throats if it made them eat healthier food ( _”I could live on burgers for the rest of my life. “ “True, but ‘the rest of your life’ wouldn’t last much longer than two weeks. I’m buying vegetables.”_ ) .  
While your eyes scanned the piece of paper in your hand your feet found their way down the aisles, and due to the small size of the store you had found everything you needed within minutes. You spent some extra time in the souvenir section, wondering what presents they would like for Christmas, but decided after a while that it wouldn’t be anything that could be classified as a ‘souvenir’. 

When you stepped outside, a white minivan immediately caught your attention: the name spelled in large black letters could hardly be missed, not to mention the large skull replacing the ‘o’. With a frown on your face you walked towards the vehicle until a shout - “Hey you, don’t touch the van!”- awoke you from your thoughts and made you turn around to face the shouter.  
A few feet away from you stood a guy with a round face, a pair of glasses balanced on the bridge of his nose, and stubble beard and moustache to complete the picture. The other members of his ‘group’ or ‘team’ (or whatever) came through the doors of the supermarket to join him, looking you up and down. The man himself seemed slightly surprised, his eyes stuck to your face, and repeated his sentence in a gentler and less confident way.  
“Oh, hey, err, Please don’t touch the van.”  
You immediately noticed he wasn’t very used to talking to the other sex, giving you an advantage you were definitely going to use in this case: you could lead the conversation to whatever subject you wanted. You gave him your warmest smile, slightly adjusting your posture to a more feminine and confident one, and answered.  
“I won’t touch it, don’t worry.”  
You looked at the letters on the van for a second, faked curiosity on your face, before turning your attention back to him and continuing.  
“So, you guys are the GhostFacers?”  
The guy seemed to swell with pride and you easily established him as the leader.  
“Yep, we face ghost when others will not!”  
There was a twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his face that said ‘I’m so cool, look at me, I’m a real man’, giving you a hard time keeping back the chuckle in your throat. This was way too easy.  
“Oh wow, so you go to haunted places and stuff?”  
“Yeah, and then we take care of the problem. Cool, huh?”  
“So why are you here? Surely nothing would happen in a small town like this?” You tucked your head to the side.  
“Actually there’s a haunted house just out of town, a few miles west of here! Many have gone there and never returned.” He smiled smug as if to enhance his manliness.  
“Really?! Wow... Do you need to walk through the woods then, to get there I mean? That must be horrible!”  
“Oh, no, there’s a small road towards the house. You’ll see it if you walk down this street. But don’t go there, it’s extremely dangerous! Only professionals like us can go there.”  
“Of course, I don’t want to get in your way now, do I?”  
You smiled a bright smile and he seemed to melt, staring at you with dilated pupils.  
“I’ll leave all that scary stuff to you and your team. It was great talking to you.”  
You gave him a wink and for a moment you were afraid his legs were going to give. A mischievous grin found its way to your face once you had turned around on your heels and you paraded down the street, swaying with your hips. 

 

“I’m back!”  
You let the door fall shut behind you and as you walked past the sofa you threw the bag with groceries in Dean’s lap, who immediately reached for his pie.  
“There’s a haunted house outside town.”  
“Really? How did you find out?” Sam looked up from his laptop.  
“There was a van outside the grocery store that said ‘GhostFacers’ and I met the guys that owned it, they were all too eager to tell me about their scary business.”  
“They just told you like that?”  
“Of course, the leader fell for my feminine charms in an instant.” The mischievous grin returned, spreading from ear to ear, and Sam copied it immediately.  
“Good job.”  
“Those guys give me a headache. “ Dean growled without putting down his sinful booklet.  
“Oh so you've met them before?” You sat down on the other side of the couch, earning you a quick glance.  
“Yeah. They are annoying as hell and got in our way, _twice_.”  
“They’ll probably go there tonight, so if we go this afternoon we probably won’t even see them.” Sam closed his laptop and stretched for a second before turning to the two of you, and both you and Dean nodded in agreement, settling the matter and leaving you a couple of hours to relax and prepare for another easy hunt.

\---

The house looked like it could collapse any second, yet you could see that it had been lovely in the past, with large windows and spacious rooms. You closed the car door and took a step towards the building, your mind trying to reconstruct it as it had been in its prime years. You could almost see the floor length curtains billowing under the light breeze of spring, hear the chatter and laughter of the inhabitants as they sat in the living room, feel the happy hum of the house itself. It was saddening, to say the least, to see something that had given so many people such fond memories fall away through time, only to get its windows and doors boarded and its walls violated with graffiti.  
That’s when you noticed something was off.  
The wooden planks that had been keeping people from entering had been thrown to the side, leaving the front door slightly ajar, and it looked like it had only been done recently. Without making a sound you exchanged glances with the other two, noticing they were thinking exactly the same thing, and Dean’s face contorted with annoyance. You walked back over to the brothers and whispered silently, trying not to make your presence known to the ‘professionals’ inside.  
“Should we turn back? We could always come back here later?”  
Sam shook his head slowly. “They might get hurt, and even though I hate them almost as much as Dean does, I don’t think we should let that happen.”  
“Then we need someone to distract them, so the other two can get rid of whatever haunts this place.”  
“And they have probably set up cameras in every corner, so we need to either turn them off or erase the footage afterwards.”  
“Alright. After you.”

The three of you sneaked inside, your guns pointed at the air in front of you. You heard their voices and the sound of things being moved before the Winchesters did and you gestured to the door at the end of the hallway. Sam signed that they would probably be in there for a little longer, checking their equipment and setting up cameras, and silently suggested that the three of you split up and searched for the bones. He was right, no cameras had been set up yet, so if you could find the bones, burn them, and get out without being seen, then there would be nothing to worry about. 

 

No bones in the basement. No bones in the attic. Nope, not in the bedroom either.  
You knew Dean would be getting quite frustrated at this point and you couldn’t blame him. You had checked every nook and every hole in every wall in all the rooms – except for one. You signed the brothers to come to you and told them that the room containing the GhostFacers was the only option left, and only seconds later it was decided that Sam would make some noise on the second floor to lure them away. 

The two of you silently hid in the room next to the team of amateurs and waited. Minutes passed before you heard a repeating stomping sound; you had to put your hand over your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. While Sam was jumping up and down and slamming doors, the noises that came from the room next to you were much funnier – high, terrified shrieks of both female and male origin pierced the air, followed by a loud “SHUT UP GUYS!” and fast whisperings of fear.  
“Let’s check it out, get the cameras, **get the cameras!** ”  
You held your breath as you heard them leave the room, their quick footsteps soon growing more distant, and pulled the cap of your hoodie over your head before you opened the door. Dean immediately made his way towards the laptop on the table, turning off all the cameras and erasing the recordings while you searched the room.  
Nothing in the cabinets and no hidden doors in the walls here either.  
You could hear how Sam moved through the house, followed by the others, but it became more and more difficult for him to keep out of their sight as they grew more confident and more eager to find the ‘ghost’. You had to find the bones quickly, or you would have to face the GhostFacers while fighting an actual ghost. While you listened to their movements upstairs you looked down at the ground – suddenly noticing the floor underneath the table was of a slightly different colour.  
“Hey, help me with this.”  
Together with Dean you silently carried the piece of furniture off its spot, revealing the square latch. Your fingers traced its lines until they found the slight dent that enabled you to pull the wooden planks away, revealing the ladder that led to the hidden room underneath you. For a moment the two of you sat in complete silence until you gave a short nod - meaning it was safe to go down for as far as you could hear - and Dean quickly turned on his flashlight before descending into the darkness. Your eyes guarded the door, your salt-filled gun kept steady in your hands. It wouldn’t take long before Sam’s pursuers found out that they were running in circles, and soon after they would figure out they had to split up and go both ways to actually get somewhere. You hoped they were as ignorant as they looked because it was difficult to concentrate both on the sounds from above and from below. 

Suddenly the real ghost appeared, and she wasn’t all too happy. 

You couldn’t shoot her because it would alert the others so you grabbed the bottle of salt from your pocket, opened it, and in one movement threw a circle around you on the floor. You threw the residue at the ghost herself, making her disappear, but you knew it wouldn’t last long, and neither would the circle around your feet.  
“Dean, hurry!” You whispered loud enough to make your voice heard over the muffled bangs coming from beneath you.  
“It won’t open!” More noise, and louder this time.  
You figured the bones were put in a locked closet or safe but you couldn't help him, because the window flew open with astonishing force, breaking all the wooden planks and sending splinters through the air. Your safe circle was gone in a second. There was no other option left than to shoot, and as soon as your finger hit the trigger the loud bang of your well-aimed shot resonated through the building. Sam’s pace immediately quickened, knowing that shit was going down, and you hoped he managed to lock the Ghostfacers up before they would get themselves killed - a sudden loud sound made you turn your attention back to the hole in the ground.  
“ _Finally!_ ”  
The ghost reappeared again and you dove towards Dean’s gun, hitting the ghost right in the chest as soon as your fingers took a hold of the weapon. You had now officially run out of salt.  
“Hurry up and burn that shit!”  
Sam came running down the stairs and burst into the room, face sweaty from all the running, jumping, and door-smashing.  
“I've locked them up but the door won’t hold them back for long.”  
Only half a second later a loud noise indicated that it had indeed failed to hold them back. Sam quickly pushed the door behind him shut and leaned against it with all his weight, bracing himself against the pushing and banging of the people on the other side. Light finally came from the square gap in the floor and Dean climbed out, after which he helped you carry the table to barricade the entrance. You climbed through the open window - careful not to get splinters in your hand from the broken boarding - and ran towards the car, followed by Sam and Dean. While Dean started the engine you could see the GhostFacers team look through the window, their faces growing hilarious expressions as they spotted the trademark-like car driving away and disappearing behind the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me to myself: Christmas is cominggggg!!!!   
>  Myself to me: But it's, like, spring...   
>  Me to myself: ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬DECK THE HALLS WITH BOUGHS OF HOLLY ♩ ♪ ♫ ♬


	19. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In a split second you stood up and froze, your eyes locked on the shadowy figure._

It was a poor excuse for a Christmas as far as you could tell, but you loved it anyway. In your burst of excitement you had bought a mini tree and decorated it with tiny baubles and thin strings of tinsel, putting your presents wrapped in shiny red paper next to it to complete the ‘festive picture’ in the midst of the cheap motel. It had been pretty difficult to find good gifts for them, and you still weren’t sure about the things you had bought but there was no turning back now, and you watched how Dean eagerly ripped the paper from the box while the radio filled the room with Christmas songs. The box itself didn’t stay intact for long either, and as soon as his eyes found the dagger he let out a gasp.  
“This is amazing!”  
He turned it around, felt how it fit in his hands, and scanned the letters engraved in the shining blade that spelled his name in a badass gothic font. A few days earlier you had taken a trip back to the town where you had stayed a while ago, to pay the craftsman who had melted down the angel blade for you another visit. You had thanked him for his kindness multiple times when he handed the finished dagger to you on the same day, giving you enough time to look for a gift for Sam – well, you knew what you were going to give him, you just hadn’t been able to find one within your price range yet.  
You were swept up in a big hug and you gave him a pat on the back, followed by a more urged one as you began to run out of oxygen. It was Sam’s turn to inspect his gift, and he softly shook it before carefully removing the paper. The twinkle in his eyes when he took out the device was all you could ask for, and it brought a relieved smile to your face. He activated it, waited for a couple of seconds, then browsed through all the songs and albums – you had made sure every song he had on his current, rather old mp3-player were on this one as well, together with some things you thought he would like, and you had added a thingy with which he could strap the device to his arm. He pulled you in for a hug as well and you both let out a chuckle when he ruffled your hair. Sam had given Dean some limited edition magazines – you knew which ones without as much as looking at the cover – and an ugly Christmas sweater, and Dean had found his brother a pretty sweet external hard drive, small and light but with a large storage capacity.

They had probably had way more trouble finding a suiting gift for you, you not being a guy and all, but you would love them no matter what they gave you. You carefully unwrapped the present with your name on it while Dean rambled about them joining forces to buy you something even though they hadn’t really had a clue at first, and that they really hoped you liked it. Your fingers reached inside the fist-sized package until they touched something cold and thin. Tears found their way to your eyes the second you pulled it out.  
“We can always go back and return it if you don’t like it.” Sam said hurriedly, mistaking them for tears of sadness – which they weren’t, not yet anyway.  
The elegant necklace of sterling silver was adorned with a small pendant shaped as a wing, one shaped like a griffin, three small circles with the names ‘Sam’, ‘Dean’, and ‘Cas’, and a name tag that said your name – only with your last name noted as ‘Winchester’. With slightly trembling fingers you tried to fasten it around your neck, tears now flowing freely and blurring your vision, and Sam quickly helped you out. While trying to regain the sharpness to your vision by blinking an awful lot you were able to whisper something that sounded like a ‘Thank you so much’, and the second Sam’s arms wrapped around you once again you broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. You let everything go, every tear you had been saving since the night Castiel had visited you in your dream and every wail your heart needed to unleash, Sam patiently rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. You missed Cas so much your heart felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out and every bone in your body wished he could just be here, with the three of you in a shitty motel next to a miniature Christmas tree exchanging gifts that were way too expensive for any of you to be able to afford. 

After a while, when no tears were left to shed, your crying turned to sobbing, and the sobbing turned to soft sniffs. Dean helplessly looked from Sam to you and back, concern on his face and soft confusion in his voice.  
“So does she like it or not?”  
You let out a soft chuckle, one of your hands wrapped around the pendants while the other tried to wipe the salty water off your face.  
“I love it. I love you guys.” 

-

You awoke the next day on the same crappy couch you had fallen asleep on, the remote control of the whispering TV still in your hand. One glance around told you that the guys were still asleep, Dean spread over the other couch in a seemingly uncomfortable position and Sam slouching in the large armchair, yet you couldn’t figure out whether it was still night or just cloudy outside. You stood up and walked over to the window in almost complete darkness (you thanked your night vision-like sight for not bumping into anything), pulling the curtains to the side a bit to reveal the threateningly dark clouds moving at an alarming speed. As if on cue the morning news came on and the man in suit spoke about a storm heading your way, with wind speed reaching up to 63 mph and predicted heavy rainfall. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you let the curtain fall back in its place. You didn’t want to get the groceries, not with this weather anyway, but there was no postponing it as you were running out of things to eat. You figured you would have to go before the actual storm arrived, shutting you in and forcing you to live off of a couple of scraps and stale water for who knows how long, so you fixed your hair and face and grabbed your coat. 

 

The way to the store had been long but uneventful, and you thought you could make it back to the motel before the heavens would come pouring down.  
You were wrong.  
You weren’t halfway yet and you were already soaked to the bone, your hair plastered to your face and your clothes as heavy as concrete. With every breath you felt like you would drown as you ran down the empty streets, clutching the bag with one hand and keeping the cap of your coat over your head with the other. The motel was about just as far ahead as the store was backwards so you continued, pushing through with all your strength. You considered shapeshifting but even birds knew it was madness to fly in this type of weather, though the feathers might keep you from freezing to death, and there was still the risk of being caught on camera. Oh how you loved winter storms.  
It was difficult to see much further than a couple of feet through the curtain of water that blocked your view, but you swore you could see the silhouette of a bus stop in the distance and you ran, ran like Death itself was chasing your ass. Your clothes tried to work you to the ground and the rain was beating down on you without mercy, sudden strong winds trying to make you lose your balance until you reached the structure and threw yourself inside. You set down the bag of drowned groceries and tried to lessen the burning sensation of your lungs, and once your heavy panting had returned to a normal pace of breathing you bent slightly forward to twist your shirt and unleash the Niagara Falls – it being only a slight relief as you were still soaked, freezing cold, and unable to leave. 

Your low-quality phone had drowned and you hadn’t seen any car, bus, or taxi since the rain had started to fall, and you realised you had made a terribly stupid mistake. You kept from facepalming yourself as it wasn’t worth it and wouldn’t improve your situation anyway, so you would just have to sit here on this cold bench of steel and wait - hoping that the storm wouldn’t rip the bus shelter from the ground. A bright flash immediately followed by the loud bang of thunder almost gave you a heart attack, making you aware of your vulnerability in this glass shelter. Once all the adrenaline had left your veins your body began to feel sore and raw, your face burning from the violent beating of the rain and your clothes turning into painful fricture torturing your skin. It was painful to move your frozen fingers so you entangled them and put your hands between your thighs. Your lungs felt as if they were filled with tiny, sharp crystals, yet there was nothing you could do about it – the only problem you could solve was the growling of your empty stomach. You would do anything for a warm cup of tea or a steaming slice of freshly baked pie right now, but these tomatoes would have to suffice. You tried to look for the bright side; at least you didn’t need to go to the toilet and at least you had found a relatively dry place to sit down. But your thoughts liked to wander, especially to the darker parts you tried to hide as far back in your mind as possible. You hadn’t heard from Balthazar since the warehouse, which was over a month ago, but you remembered clearly what he had said.  


_I don’t know about any human-angel relationship working out._  


It was true, none of the books however ancient they might be spoke of lasting relationships between angels and humans, though you got a little reassurance from the fact that you weren’t exactly human – not fully anyway. The only thing you had been able to find was the mention of a Nephilim, the forbidden offspring of a human and an angel. It brought a sad smile to your face when you thought about the day you had read about it, about how your mind had wandered to children and childbirth and about how afraid you had been to become pregnant after that delightful night. Luckily you had been parasite-free, though you didn’t know if that was because of the morning-after pills you had taken or if Cas had had his own influence on it – but either way you were grateful. It made you cringe to think about it being born as a griffin, with sharp claws and an extra pair of limbs, because you wouldn’t lay an egg, right? The thought alone made you laugh out loud, the mental image disturbing but hilarious. But after the laugh had died out it was replaced with a feeling of hollowness, and one of your hands found its way to the pendants on the necklace. It wasn’t your ‘destiny’ to start a family, whether you wanted to start one or not, because the only future that was plausible for you was to either keep hunting until you grew as old as Bobby or to die doing so. You were pretty sure you wouldn’t be resurrected multiple times such as Sam and Dean, because you were of no importance to the world, to heaven or to hell.  
Your fingers lingered on the wing shaped pendant. As you listened to the roaring thunder you wondered how your life would have been if you had just been born as a normal child, in a normal family. Would you have gone to college? Found a job, married a man and bought a nice apartment? What would you have been like and who would you have become? 

Strange, how you kept looking left and right, waiting for a pair of headlights to pierce through the blue haze even though you knew no bus was coming. You didn’t think the brothers would come and look for you as long as the storm raged on, but suddenly you noticed a silhouette walking down the road. A frown formed on your face, you hadn’t thought there would be others like you searching for a place to take shelter from the rain, but you were looking forward to a conversation, just to keep your mind from going darker places. As the person came closer you could tell it was a guy, wearing a long coat of some sort...

In a split second you stood up and froze, your eyes locked on the shadowy figure. 

You didn’t trust yourself as your mind had played tricks on you before, yet your heart forbid you to give up all hope. Were you going to walk, or to wait? What if it wasn’t him and you just ran right at a total stranger? 

He was getting closer and closer but at an agonizingly slow pace, until you could finally make out the details of a red-stained trench coat, a soaked suit and dark hair, and finally those gorgeous blue eyes. 

The sound of the rain disappeared and nothing existed anymore but you and him, and your legs found purpose again as they started running as fast as they possibly could. You almost tripped as the winds pushed and pulled at your body, the water from above violent and painful but you ignored it, all of it, and almost threw yourself into his embrace. You held him tighter than ever, afraid the rain would wash him away, and in less than a second you felt his strong arms wrap around your body, his face resting in the crook of your neck.  
“I love you,” you whispered, “I love you I love you I love you.”  
“I... I love you too, ____. I love you.”  
No rain could take away the heat from your body now, no thunder or lightning could scare you because he was here, he was finally here. 

You supported him until you reached the bus shelter and sat him down on the iron bench, your eyes quickly scanning his face for any cuts, wounds, or head trauma. You were relieved to find nothing but some minor scrapes and bruises. You figured it was too cold for him to take off his coat, shirt and pants so you asked him if he had any further injuries, to which he replied in the negative. You were glad to hear that, of course, but something seemed amiss - he didn’t look you in your eyes but stared beyond anything there was to see. You understood he was probably traumatised from killing his brothers, but this was different, though you couldn’t tell how you knew.  
“Are you okay?” a soft whisper as you sat down next to him. He didn’t answer.  
“Castiel?”  
He kept his face turned away, but through the reflection of the glass you noticed how he pursed his lips together and how he slightly squinted his eyes. He was crying. 

You didn’t know what to do, there were so many questions you wanted to ask and so many things you wanted to say but his uncharacteristic display of emotions left you dumbfounded. Your stomach turned and your heart twisted as many emotions fought for dominance, your rationale pretty unsure of what to do as well. You didn’t want to hurt him by prying too much but you didn’t want to seem distant or uncaring either. So you did what seemed safest: you shoved over and leaned against him, the fingers of your hand entwining with his, and you waited. 

You didn’t know how long the two of you sat there like that, but after a while you felt his posture straighten a bit, as if he was gathering the courage to speak – and he did.  
“I am... I am no longer...” He stopped and sighed, but he had said enough for you to understand. You have a soft squeeze in his hand and smiled at him when he turned his head to meet your eyes with his.  
“It’s okay.”  
It wasn’t okay, it was far from okay. He didn’t deserve this, to lose his family and to be abandoned by those he spoke so fondly of, to be kicked out of his home. Anger of which its intensity surprised even you started to boil deep down inside of your being. You were going to make this right. You were going to speak to his Father.  
“You’re alive and here with me, which is all I could ask for.”

You accepted him the way he was, be it angel or human or anything in between, and you didn’t know how grateful he was for it, for you. Your face was red from the cold and the rain but still of astonishing beauty, your eyes sparkling with life and your lips oh so very alluring. It amazed him how bright your soul was, how it had doubled in intensity since the second you had seen him, and how prominent it was, still. He loved you. He loved you with every fibre of his being and he wanted to hug you, kiss you, keep you close and feel your warmth. He wanted to touch you in ways that brought a blush to his cheeks. He wanted to sleep next to you, to see you awaken in his arms. He wanted to watch you draw, sitting by the window while the sun wrapped its light around you. He wanted to study your face as you read a book, he wanted to hear your voice as you sang in the shower, he wanted to feel your hands on his skin.  
He had to admit that, now that he was human, everything seemed so much more intense, and it wasn’t unpleasant. He took you in his arms, once again surprised by your softness and warmth, and held you close, your pleasant scent mixed with that of the rain teasing his nostrils. He had missed you so much. 

 

The storm lessened in intensity and you took his hand, saying that this was your chance. He noticed how she held back slightly so his beaten body could keep up. He felt awful. It felt like ages before the two of you reached the motel, but as soon as you knocked the door flew open, revealing Dean shouting something like ‘Damn it ____, we were worried you got washed away!’ before he fell silent. The silence was short lived, however, as his face instantly brightened and he took a step forward to give him a hug. “Cas!”  
Sam, alarmed by Dean’s shout, quickly joined the three of you, his face showing how surprised he was to see him before he, too, hugged him tight. Castiel felt something that could be described as ‘his heart swelling’, the feeling new to him though he obviously knew what it meant. His friends had missed him, and he had missed them in return.  
They almost pulled the two of you inside and you guided him to the couch – which was much more comfortable than the bench at the bus stop, and his weary body was grateful for the sudden respite.  
It was good to be back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what's coming next ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Every comment and critique is appreciated <3  
> I also do requests for quite a lot of fandoms 
> 
> Feel free to ask anything ;3


End file.
